Gone But Not Forgotten
by dublin writer
Summary: Steve is acting strange and Mike is determined to get to the bottom of it and help him through whatever is bothering him. This is a story I wrote as a gift to someone I know who is dealing with similar circumstances. Disclaimer: As per usual I am only borrowing the characters and they do not belong to me. They belong to Quinn Martin.
1. Chapter 1

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: This is** **a story I wrote for someone I know who is dealing with a tough anniversary today. She will know who she is. I hope this story helps a little. Thank you for reading!**

Chapter 1

As Mike drove around the corner onto Union Street it was just turning ten to eight in the morning. The morning sun was shining brightly and starting to heat up. As he pulled the LTD up at the kerb, a brief glance upwards revealed his partner leaning over the railings outside the front door of his apartment, staring dreamily out at the sea. The strong sea breeze was blowing his wavy locks in every direction and he seemed to be in deep thought. So deep in fact that he hadn't even noticed Mike's arrival. Mike studied his partner for several seconds and something about his partner's demeanor bothered him. He had been his usual chatty self the previous evening as Mike had dropped him home and had been looking forward to a night out with some old college friends later on but today he seemed at first glance to be knee deep in the doldrums.

Perhaps he had partied too late with his friends and was now blowing off the cobwebs or the remnants of a hangover from over indulgence. Mike almost hoped that was the reason as normally Mike would have had to make the trip across the road, and up the steps to his apartment and knock several times before his sleepy looking partner would appear in various stages of readiness. Today he seemed to be fully ready and waiting for Mike and the unusualness of that alone was enough to set alarm bells ringing. Steve never budged or looked around so Mike gave a quick burst of the car horn and saw Steve jolt back to the present and looking around and seeing Mike he waved and tucking his customary morning paper under his arm, as was the norm, he descended the steps, but today Mike observed he was lacking his usual bounding, energetic step. He crossed the street and opening the passenger door he sat in.

"Hey ..." he said flatly as he threw the paper onto the seat between them.

Mike studied his partner's side profile and definitely saw signs of a sleepless night. When Mike never answered or moved to turn the key in the ignition, Steve turned and looked curiously at Mike, and saw the older man staring at him unnervingly.

"What?"

"Hey. Is that all I get this morning? No good morning Mike. Isn't it a beautiful morning Mike? How are you this fine day Mike? Just hey, huh?"

A wry smile spread all over Steve's face at Mike's answer.

"I just can't please you can I? Here I am up, for once, ready and waiting for you and still you expect lively morning conversation to go with it. Well alright , if it makes you happy. Good morning Mike. How are you on this beautiful sunny day?"

Mike chuckled and reached over and ruffled his partner's already wind tossed hair.

"Well thank you buddy boy. Good morning to you too and actually I feel pretty good this morning." Then very slyly he turned and directed his next question at Steve. "Now how about you?"

Steve was caught slightly off guard by that question.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked. How are you this morning ? Because to me you look a little off or at the very least tired. Late night with your friends last night? Maybe you're feeling the effects of one too many, is that it?"

Steve's smile widened and he shook his head incredulously from side to side.

"For your information, LIEUTENANT, your detective skills are way off this morning. Actually, as a matter of fact, I didn't ... I didn't go last night ."

At that last wavering statement, Steve's smile faded and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then gestured towards the road ahead.

"Come on Mike, are we going to work or not?"

"Hold your horses now. We're a little early anyway. Why didn't you go last night? You were looking forward to it."

Mike's face had turned serious and Steve knew he wasn't going to let it drop that easily. Steve sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.

"I just didn't feel like it, ok? I'll catch them the next time they're in town. It isn't a big deal Mike, now can we please just go?"

Mike stared back at Steve and saw Steve's defiance. Knowing from experience that pushing was the worst thing he could do to get Steve to confide in him, he changed tactics.

"Ok, hotshot. That's all you're giving me, huh?"

That made Steve's smile return and he chuckled as he spoke.

"Absolutely. You want any more morning news scoops, feel free to borrow my paper."

Mike laughed.

"Ok, ok. You win. Let's go."

With that Mike started the car and drove off in the direction of Bryant Street. As he drove he cast an occasional glance over at Steve who had gone strangely quiet again and was watching out the passenger window as if to avoid any more deep and probing questions from his partner. Stopped at a traffic light, Mike couldn't help himself but ask.

"You're not sick are you? Did you get one of those migraines you suffer from last night?"

Steve sighed again in annoyance.

"NO! Ok? I'm not sick and I didn't have a migraine. I just didn't feel like going alright? Now can we please just drop the subject?"

"Sure ... ok. No need to bite my head off. I was just worried that's all." Mike replied turning his attention back to waiting for the green light, visibly annoyed by Steve's reaction.

Steve in turn looked remorseful for his outburst and as they took off again he mumbled.

"Sorry Mike. I didn't mean to snap at you. But sometimes you're like a dog with a bone, that's all and you keep asking me things ... You don't have to worry, ok? There's nothing wrong. Now can we please just leave it at that?"

Mike glanced over again and saw Steve's almost pleading expression and nodded accordingly.

"Ok, buddy boy. I won't mention it anymore."

"Thank you." Steve said with a certain amount of relief in his voice and went back to staring quietly out the passenger window.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence and Mike had barely parked when Steve had hopped out of the car and was heading across the carpark. Mike locked up the car and almost had to sprint to catch up with his partner. Arriving up to the squadroom, Mike noted that it was fairly quiet there this morning. Art and Healy were the only ones at their desks and they both greeted the two men as they arrived. Mike went to fetch his customary morning cup of coffee but Steve removed his jacket, placed it on the back of his chair and started putting paper in his typewriter immediately to start typing the pile of reports that had built up on his desk. Mike turned and watched Steve, baffled by his peculiar mood this morning but at the same time knowing Steve had distinctly expressed no desire to talk about whatever was bothering him.

"Aren't you going to have some coffee Steve?"

"No, thank you."

"You caught me at a weak moment, I'm buying."

"No, but thanks anyway."

Steve didn't want to tell the older man that he'd actually been unable to sleep last night and had drank so many cups of coffee over the last six hours at home that he didn't want to see anymore coffee for the foreseeable future.

He started typing furiously and Mike didn't feel like trying to talk to him over the loud racket the typing made so he took his own coffee into his office and sitting down at his desk he once more studied the back of the young man who was almost taking out whatever frustrations he was harboring on his poor typewriter. The next four hours passed very slowly. Mike had dealt with his own paperwork. Then there had been a squadroom meeting and during it Mike saw Steve once more looking very distracted throughout it and then Mike had been called to a meeting with the upper echelons which went on tediously for over two hours. By the time Mike returned to the squadroom, it was nearly noon and Bill Tanner was now at his desk too.

As Mike entered he heard Steve muttering angrily and saw him slamming papers onto his desk. He seemed to be fiddling with the typewriter and looked fit to kill. Mike looked at Bill who smiled as he knew what he was looking at him for.

"Has he been like that since I left?"

"Pretty much. I offered to help but he said he was fine so I left him alone. What's up with him Mike?"

"I don't know but I'm going to find out. This has gone on long enough." Mike said determinedly as he strode over to Steve's desk.

"Why are you having a disagreement with that typewriter buddy boy?"

Steve never looked up but Mike could almost see steam coming out of his partner's ears and knew he was all heated up about something. His face was flushed with anger and frustration and his usual well coiffured locks were disheveled and tossed. Still fiddling with the infernal machine in front of him , he spoke angrily.

"It's all Rudy's fault. I told him three weeks ago this thing was on its last legs but would he LISTEN? NO! The "R" and the "N" keep sticking. Do you know how many times you need those letters when typing a crime report, HUH? Crime Report, murder scene, murder weapon, I mean seriously how am I supposed to clear this backlog with this machine playing up. He said he'd get me a different one but he hasn't ..."

Then pushing the machine away from him in exasperation he sank back down in his chair with his head in his hands and surrendered.

"Oh to HELL with it!"

Mike had stood and listened incredulously to Steve's rant which was so out of character for his partner who would normally suffer in silence. Then as he watched Steve appear to calm down, he patted the young man's shoulder purposefully and as Steve lifted his head to look at Mike, feeling embarrassed by his outburst, he saw the older man gesturing towards his office.

"Come on, quick march."

Steve knew he was in trouble by the summons but also knew better than to argue with it so he stood up wearily and made his way into Mike's glass enclosed office. He stood beside Mike's desk and reaching down he started fiddling nervously with a pen that lay discarded on it. He heard Mike entering behind him and heard the door being closed. _Boy, was he in for it now_ , he thought to himself. If he was going to get a chewing, the closed door ones were the ones to avoid at all costs and he knew that from past experience both personally and from witnessing them from his desk's vantage point over the last two years of working with the man.

He waited for Mike's raised voice to yell but to his surprise, instead, Mike passed beside him and pointed to the chair for him to sit down on and then went and sat down behind his desk. The closed door telling offs were nearly always delivered standing up so this latest development threw Steve off guard. He didn't sit however but instead started trying to defend himself

"Look Mike, if this is about the typewriter, I'm sorry ok? I shouldn't have lost my temper but it's really annoying and I've asked for that thing to be fixed or changed so many times and so far nothing. It makes life difficult and ..."

To Steve's added surprise Mike interrupted his apology quite calmly.

"Ok, ok, shush now. Forget about the typewriter will you? I'll sort it out and in the meantime you can use Lee's one because he's on a week's leave. Alright? Will that make you happy?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably where he stood and took a deep breath to calm himself. Amazed that Mike was taking his outburst so calmly he forced a smile.

"Thank you. Yes, that would be very helpful. I appreciate it."

But as he turned to leave, Mike stopped him.

"Ah ah, I'm not finished yet. Take a seat will you?"

Steve knew it had been too good to be true. He turned and stared at Mike with exasperation in his eyes but didn't move.

"Please? Sit." Mike cajoled and so reluctantly Steve took two steps forward and dropped into the chair opposite his partner.

Steve brushed both hands through his hair to tidy it back into place and then started rubbing his hands nervously together. He had a bad feeling that this conversation was not going to be to his liking. He waited uncomfortably for almost a minute before Mike finally spoke.

"I didn't call you in here over your little tantrum over the typewriter although I strongly believe it's somehow related to what I am going to ask you next. What's chewing on you Steve?"

Steve opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by a wagging finger and a sharp look from Mike.

"Ah, ah ... And don't you give me that there's nothing wrong routine. Now you should know as partners, that at this stage I know you better than you know yourself. You've been way too quiet this morning."

Steve shifted in his seat again and looked increasingly on edge.

"I don't think my outburst out there somehow qualifies as quiet Mike." Steve said lightheartedly , hoping to detract the conversation away from where it was now predictably heading.

Mike's face remained focused and serious much to Steve's dismay and as he looked back down at his lap, Mike continued.

"No, but it was the culmination of whatever has been chewing on you all morning. Why other than the few words we spoke in the car this morning you've hardly said a word all day. You're distracted and irritable and withdrawn and I want to know why?"

Steve cleared his throat uneasily. He didn't want to say, but he was running out of avoidance tactics. He gave it one last try.

"Aw come on Mike. I'm often quiet. There doesn't always have to be a reason you know? Maybe I just don't feel chatty today, ok?"

"Yes, you can be quiet a lot. But this is a different quiet. "

Steve chuckled nervously.

"A different quiet? I wasn't aware I had a few kinds."

Mike knew the young man was trying to avoid the inevitable but this time he wasn't going to wriggle off the hook so easily.

"Oh yes, you have a few different kinds alright.. Do you want me to fill you in on them?"

Steve smiled again.

"Sure, go ahead. You have me intrigued."

"Ok, well there's your _I'm exhausted, it's been a long day and I don't feel like talking_ quiet, your _this case is bugging me and I'm trying to figure it out_ quiet. Oh and let's not forget the best one the _I'm not feeling well but I don't want to let on to Mike_ quiet."

Steve laughed at the last one one and at all Mike's correct observations. He marvelled at how Mike had him pegged to a tee and so joined in the amusing banter.

"Ok, you seem to have me all figured out. So you tell me. Which quiet am I experiencing today, huh?"

"Well, now today, you have a different quiet. I think it's the _something's really upsetting me but I don't want to have to talk about it, not even with Mike_ quiet and that's the one that worries me the most."

Mike had hit a little too uncomfortably close to the mark and so Steve countered quickly.

"Well I think you forgot another of my so called quiets Mike."

"Oh, what's that?"

"My Mike's acting weird so I need to go back and type up my reports quiet" Steve chuckled and started to stand up to leave as quickly as he could but Mike shot out an arm and once more stopped him.

"Ah, ah, SIT! You're not leaving this office until you drop that enormous chip off your shoulder and spill your guts. Out with it. It can't be that bad surely? You can always talk to me about things. Why not this time?"

Steve sat back down and rubbed a hand over his mouth in the same nervous way he often did. He stayed extra quiet for several seconds and Mike was sure he saw several different emotions cross the young man's face. He wasn't sure if his young partner was going to open up or not but he stayed quiet hoping that he would. After only a minute or two Steve looked up at Mike and the haunting look he gave him sent a chill down Mike's spine.

"What is it buddy boy?"

Steve sat back in the chair and resigned himself to his fate.

"Ok, you win. But first off, it's nothing to worry about. It's just something to do with tomorrow, that's all."

"Tomorrow? You applied for tomorrow off. Is what's bothering you the reason?"

Steve just nodded and then spoke sadly.

"Yeah, it's ... it's an anniversary ..."

Mike swallowed hard, not expecting that revelation and suddenly felt almost afraid to ask his next question but biting the bullet he continued.

"Go on Steve. What ... anniversary?"

Steve appeared to struggle a little and Mike was almost sorry for forcing the young man to talk. Steve leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and Mike had to strain to hear as Steve mumbled downwards, almost talking to the floor as he did.

"It's the anniversary of my ... parent's accident. They ... died twenty five years ago tomorrow ..."

Steve's head stayed hung low and it was Mike's turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Composing himself he leaned forward across the desk and placed a supportive hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Well, no wonder you're off form. Why didn't you say something sooner? I would have understood you know?"

Steve didn't look up for several more seconds and when he finally did, Mike was sure he had a glint of moisture in his eyes. He seemed to be struggling to speak and wrestled with the words for more agonizing seconds before he allowed them leave his mouth.

"I know, I know you would, but the thing is ... it's just another year you know but ... well although it's just a number I ... I feel different this year about it and I don't know why."

Mike nodded.

"Well, twenty five years is a long time ... and it's one of those special anniversaries I guess. Is that why you didn't go with your friends last night?"

Steve nodded again.

"Yeah ... I don't know ... It just didn't feel right. Going out and enjoying myself when they ... " He looked up and saw Mike looking pitifully at him and almost regretted telling him. "Stupid huh?"

"No, it's not stupid ... I'm ... well I'm sorry buddy boy."

"I know you are. Well, now you know, ok? Look I better get back to work ..." Steve flustered, as his voice wavered. Feeling his emotions fray, Steve needed desperately to get them back under control and back to work before the other guys witnessed it. He stood up but this time Mike stood up too.

"It's nearly lunchtime, buddy boy. Come on, get your jacket. I'm treating you. Let's go."

"No, Mike. Really, I'm not hungry. I just want to finish those reports."

"The reports can wait. Now come on, I'm not taking anymore no answers from you today. Come on, get your jacket ... Please?"

Steve sighed heavily as if the world was on his shoulders but knowing Mike's stalwart determination as he did he reluctantly walked out to his desk and grabbing his jacket he slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the squadroom, dragging his feet wearily as he went.

Mike grabbed his coat and hat and followed after him stopping at Bill's desk momentarily.

"I'm taking Steve out for lunch. Do me a favor will you and replace Steve's typewriter with Lee's while we're gone will you please? You can leave his broken one in my office and hold the fort. We may be gone a little longer than usual. Ok?"

"Sure, no problem Mike. Is he ... ok?"

"Yes, he will be and thanks Bill."

Mike patted his colleagues shoulder and raced out after Steve.

Mike caught up with Steve heading towards the car. Arriving at the car Steve got into his usual spot behind the wheel but to his amazement Mike came around his side and opening the door again he spoke determinedly.

"Scooch over. I'm driving."

"MIKE! I'm ok to drive."

"I know you are ... but I'm driving. Now SCOOCH!"

Steve shifted himself sideways and dumped his jacket between them grumpily. He knew Mike meant well but he really just wanted to be left alone to wallow in his own misery. Mike could tell that Steve wasn't in the mood for this impromptu lunch but he hoped when he saw what he had in mind it might cheer the young man up even just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N : Many thanks again for the kind feedback on this story so far. Here is chapter two :-)**

Chapter 2

As Mike drove he shot an occasional glance over at Steve every now and then. Steve had slumped down in his seat and was lying back with his head resting against the back of the seat. He had, much to Mike's dismay, retrieved his sunglasses on starting out and had put them on so that his eyes were no longer visible. Mike couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not so he didn't make conversation. Pulling up outside one of their favorite coffee shops, Mike's question was answered as his young partner straightened up and turned with his hand on the door handle to exit the car. Again Mike's voice stopped him short.

"Hold on Steve. Stay where you are. We're not eating here. "

"We're not?"

"No. Now what would you like for lunch? Anything at all, just name it and I'll get it."

Steve opened his mouth to answer but Mike beat him to it once more.

"And don't tell me you just want a coffee or a soda because this is not a liquid lunch. Solid food IS a requirement. Ok buddy boy?"

Steve's mouth shut again confirming the fact that Mike had once again successfully read the young man's mind quite well and then shrugging his shoulders he slumped back down in the seat and answered indifferently.

"Ok, surprise me ... "

Mike smiled over at the young man and teased back.

"Are you sure you want to risk that?"

Steve turned his head and tipped his sunglasses further down onto his nose and looked over the rim of them at Mike.

"Just don't surprise me with anchovies, ok?"

Mike laughed a hearty laugh.

"Ok, one surprise without anchovies coming up."

He exited the car and Steve righted the glasses and watched as he entered the coffee shop. As he disappeared from sight, Steve sighed heavily and his smile vanished. He wondered where his mystery lunch stop was going to be and in a strange way he wasn't looking forward to it. He knew that it was just a matter of time before more questions came and he wasn't sure he would have any of the answers to them when they did. The minutes ticked by and Steve grew impatient. He must have glanced at his watch at least twenty times and finally Mike appeared carrying a huge brown paper bag. Again Steve sighed. It looked like Mike had bought enough food for the whole squad room and Steve's stomach somersaulted at the thought. _Why was it people thought that when you were sad or off form, stuffing you with food was going to make everything better?_ he quietly wondered to himself.

Mike sat back into the car and placed the food bag on the floor between them. As he closed the door and reached for the key in the ignition he saw Steve looking in his direction.

"What? I wasn't that long."

"You sure you bought enough? I'm surprised George isn't turning the closed sign on the door and saying sold out!"

"Very funny wiseguy. You know this mightn't be all for you. Maybe I bought something for me for after work too huh? Didn't think of that did you? Call yourself a detective?" Mike said humorously and swatted at Steve who ducked the swipe successfully.

Mike then drove off and smiled as he watched Steve trying to figure out where Mike was taking him.

"You haven't figured it out yet have you?"

"Figured out what?" Steve replied innocently, but secretly cursing the fact that truthfully he hadn't got a clue.

Mike laughed again enjoying the lighthearted banter, knowing that when they reached their destination the conversation was more than likely going to take a more serious turn.

"You haven't figured out where we're having lunch yet, have you?"

Steve couldn't help but laugh too, knowing he was caught out.

"Ok you win again. I haven't a clue. Put me out of my misery will you? "

"Sit back and relax buddy boy. We're almost there."

"Almost there?" Steve exclaimed curiously and then noticing the roads Mike was taking it all became clear. "The Golden Gate Park? Is that where we're going? "

"Now you're thinking buddy boy. Do you remember when I said we should go there more often and bring a nice picnic lunch with us instead of eating from all those hot dog stands and fast food joints? "

Steve looked thoughtful for a few seconds.

"Yeah, it was when that psycho accused me of assaulting him when all along he was trying to kill that nice lady Martha Howard."

"Exactly! Well... I thought today would be as good a day as any to do it."

Mike pulled up and parked and retrieving the bag the two men exited and walked through the tall Park gates. It was a glorious Summer's day and the sun was warm and the sky was an ocean of blue. The Park was full. There were office workers who had escaped the confines of their offices to eat their lunch in the open air and parents with children enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Everyone was smiling and enjoying the warm weather. _Except for one person,_ Mike thought to himself as he watched Steve's solemn face and as he carried the food bag under his left arm he placed his right one on Steve's shoulder as they walked.

They walked along by the lake a good ways until they found a relatively quiet spot somewhat shaded under a clump of trees and there was a bench at the lake's edge which looked like it had only been recently vacated. Mike moved to sit down on it and then patted the seat beside him.

"Come on. Rest your bones Steve. This is as good a lunch spot as any, Huh?"

Steve nodded and sat down but Mike sensed his unease. He was nervously wringing his fingers again and avoiding Mike's gaze as if his life depended on it. The water on the lake was sparkling with the sun's rays and two elegant swans drifted past as they sat there in relative silence. Mike began fumbling in the bag and produced two packs of sandwiches. He handed one out to Steve but the young man didn't even notice. He seemed a million miles away as he stared at the two swans and the rippling water that advanced out from them in circles as they gracefully glided past in front of him. Mike nudged him and when he turned around, Mike handed him the sandwich pack a second time. Steve straightened up and cast a forced smile at his partner, the only kind his mouth seemed to be allowing today, and accepted it with thanks. Unwrapping the packet Steve saw two pastrami sandwiches on rye, but instead of a smile his face held a haunted look that for a brief moment caused Mike to be concerned.

"You do like those don't you?" Mike asked hoping that he had called it right but worrying that maybe he hadn't.

Steve didn't answer at first but then seemed to pull himself together and nodded gratefully as he took a reluctant mouthful to appease his partner and friend.

"Yeah, I do thanks. My ... Grandfather used to make these for me, that's all."

Mike felt bad for unwittingly dragging up more memories for the young man and could also see that Steve was struggling to chew and swallow it. He also felt that the young man was only eating it for his sake. The sound of a soda can hissing as it was opened drew Steve's attention back to Mike and as he turned, Mike handed him a cola.

"You didn't seem too keen on coffee this morning so I thought a cold drink might go down better."

Again a mumbled thanks was all the conversation that elicited and taking the can Steve seemed to gratefully wash down the well chewed mouthful of sandwich before returning his attention back towards the lake.

As Mike ate his sandwiches he watched as Steve started pulling pieces from the remainder of his and began throwing them towards the source of his latest distraction. Soon the swans were joined by a gathering of hungry looking ducks and Mike chuckled as he watched the ensuing squabble as they fought over the crumbs Steve threw at them.

"You do know I bought that lunch for you and not the ducks don't you? " Mike said lightheartedly and he saw Steve's face grin.

"Yeah ... sorry. They just looked hungrier than I am." Steve answered before taking another mere nibble again for Mike's benefit more so than his.

"Steve ... when did you eat last?"

"Aw Mike, stop will you please? "

Mike could tell that Steve was getting annoyed with his fussing but he also knew from past experience that when Steve got like this he tended to neglect basic things like sleep and nutrition and he wanted to ensure it didn't happen this time.

"It's a simple question. When did you EAT last?"

Steve got annoyed and leaving the barely touched sandwich on the bench beside Mike he stood up and headed for the edge of the lake barking back at Mike as he went.

"YESTERDAY, alright? I haven't stopped eating ok Mike? And for your information I was thirty last month so you have to stop treating me like a difficult CHILD!"

Even as the harsh words left his mouth he looked embarrassed and remorseful and turned his back on Mike to hide the shame and the sorrow he felt at his latest outburst. He stood at the water's edge kicking pebbles into the lake and feeling more like a disgruntled child than the adult he had informed Mike he was. He didn't dare look back at Mike for fear of seeing hurt and disappointment in the older man's eyes and instead stared into the water, his own sorrowful and guilty looking reflection staring back up at him. He heard movement behind him and then felt two strong hands on his shoulders and felt a lump appear in his throat. Before Mike could say anything, Steve reached up and grabbed one of Mike's hands in his, but still staring out in front of him he mumbled emotionally, his words broken and sad.

"I'm sorry ... Mike ... I'm really sorry ... "

He heard Mike take a breath behind him and felt the strong hands squeezing the muscles of his shoulders. Then he heard Mike's deep and comforting voice.

"Shush now. It's ok. It's not your fault. You're upset and that's understandable and you're right. I do treat you like a child sometimes but it's only because I feel fatherly towards you and protective and I just want to help you and well quite frankly ... at times like this it scares me that sometimes I just don't know how to buddy boy."

The lump in Steve's throat grew larger and threatened to choke him as he heard the genuine and sincere words that Mike had imparted quietly to him. He risked a glance behind him and was met with two piercing blue eyes which almost seemed to reach into his very soul and he looked away quickly for fear Mike would see his inner struggle to cope with tomorrow's anniversary. Steve cleared his throat as best he could and it took him several seconds to manage an answer.

"You do help Mike. Just by... being here with me and just by ... caring ... I haven't had many people in my life who just did that ... Cared, you know?" Then feeling the conversation was getting a little too uncomfortable he decided to inject humor to offset the angst. " Besides, I guess if I want you to stop treating me like a kid I have to stop acting like one first huh?"

Mike smiled and then spoke again seriously.

"Come and sit back down will you? And if you don't feel like eating the sandwich then you can even feed it to your new fan club down there if you want to, ok?" Mike said playfully referring to the ever growing assortment of birds that had gathered all around them at the water's edge waiting for the next titbit to be fought over.

Finally a genuine smile broke out on Steve's face and he nodded and allowed Mike to guide him by the shoulders back to the bench. Sitting back down, Steve picked up the sandwich and started once more throwing bits of it over at the waiting brood and waited for the next question he knew was destined to follow. After several more minutes of watching Steve feed the birds and almost reveling in his delight at doing so, Mike risked his next question.

"You're really struggling with tomorrow aren't you?"

Steve tossed the last morsel out to the squabbling birds and watched as they swam away one by one almost as if they knew he had nothing left to give, and ironically Steve thought maybe sensing the discomfort of the ensuing conversation. Strangely though the two swans remained and Steve was glad they did. Their elegant beauty and peacefulness seemed to calm him and their gliding movement stilled his pounding heartbeat. Feeling unable to drag his eyes from them for fear they would disappear if he did, he answered Mike without returning eye contact.

"Yeah ... I ... I am. I just feel that I should mark it someway special, you know? But I'm not sure how. "

Mike had never taken his hand from Steve's shoulder since sitting back down, somehow feeling that Steve desperately needed the contact to be able to open up about such a tragic and emotional event from his past. Hearing Steve's heartfelt concerns touched Mike deeply and he wished with all his heart he could help Steve feel better somehow. Cautiously choosing his words, he squeezed Steve's shoulder again compassionately and spoke.

"What had you planned to do tomorrow?"

"I hadn't really made up my mind yet. I thought about going to Modesto ... visiting their grave, bringing flowers and then I thought maybe I would ..."

Steve stopped mid sentence worryingly as if he was reconsidering whether or not he should share the next part of his plan. Mike caught the reluctance and waited a few seconds before probing again gently.

"Then you thought you'd do what Steve?"

Steve shifted uneasily on the bench, tapping his feet on the gravel path nervously as he did and then reaching for the can of cola beside him, he took a long drink to moisten his suddenly bone dry throat. Then clearing his throat purposefully, he answered.

"Em ... Their tenth anniversary was a couple of months before my Grandfather ... passed away. He was really good at carpentry and he made this beautiful wooden cross. It was all hand carved. I remember all the hours he spent out in his wood shed working on it. And I remember thinking at the time when he had it completed and he brought me out to show it to me, that it was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. For their ... tenth anniversary he took me out to the spot where they ... where they'd had the accident and we marked it with the wooden cross. It was just a country road. A plain looking ditch no different from any other except this one was where they ... "

Steve stopped talking as the memory caused his heart to ache and his voice to fail him. He felt his eyes water as he recalled that spot. That unassuming spot where fate had been cruel and robbed him of a normal childhood. He swallowed back the emotion as best he could and tried to finish what he had set out to explain.

"I ... haven't been back to that spot since. I don't know if the cross is even still there. I thought maybe tomorrow ... I'd go see ... if it ... was ..." Steve couldn't say anything else and quickly rubbed at his eyes before any tear could escape and mortify him in front of Mike. He glanced quickly away, his attention now focused on a little boy playing catch with his parents on the grass patch off to his right. An ironic sight he thought as he dwelt on all those special times he had missed out on, due to a cruel twist of fate.

Mike felt his own heart break at Steve's revelation and he remained silent for a few minutes as he got his own emotions back under control before speaking, feeling at the same time that Steve too needed a few minutes to compose himself too.

"Steve, I hope you don't mind me saying this but ... well ... I'm not sure if that's a good idea buddy boy. You know, revisiting that spot. At least ... not on your own. "

Steve whipped his head back around at Mike and he studied the older man for several seconds.

"Are you saying what I think you are?"

Mike nodded and smiled " Yes. Well ... that is ... I'm well over due a day off as you know and if ... well if you wouldn't mind the company?"

Steve smiled gratefully at Mike, unable to stop the tears welling up again and with a voice thick with emotion he managed four heartfelt words.

"You'd come with me?"

Mike patted his shoulder and had a glint of mischief in his eye.

"Well someone has to keep you out of trouble and besides ... you don't think I'd rather stay at the office fixing all those reports with missing "r"s and "n"s in them now do you?"

This made Steve chuckle and he patted the older man's knee affectionately.

"That's a good point ..."

Mike looked around and then at his watch. They had been out of the office for around forty five minutes and yet he had no desire to return there yet. Picking up the remnants of their picnic lunch and placing them back in the bag, he gestured to Steve.

"Come on, let's walk for a bit. Blow off the cobwebs before we head back to Bryant Street. What do you say?"

Steve nodded and stood up gathering his empty can and whatever wrappers that they were finished with and placing them in the trash can as he did. Then he joined Mike as they strolled leisurely along the lake pathway.

After several minutes of relaxed and silent companionship, Mike broke the silence once more.

"Ah, it's really beautiful here isn't it? We really should make a better effort to do this more often you know? "

"Yeah ... we should." Steve answered reaching down for a handful of pebbles and as they walked he skimmed them out across the lake one at a time.

"Say, that's pretty good skimming buddy boy. Who taught you how to do that?"

Again Steve smiled. " My Grandfather. He taught me most things. "

That tragic statement hung in the air between them for a few minutes before Mike ventured again.

"Steve ... have you thought about getting a mass said for them tomorrow?"

"A mass?"

"Yes, an anniversary mass. Sometimes it's a nice way of remembering people you know?"

Steve skimmed another stone, his face looking thoughtful.

"I don't know Mike. I don't even remember if they went to church that often."

"Well that doesn't matter. It's just a token. A remembrance that's all. I get one said for Helen every year."

"You think I should?"

"Well, it's entirely up to you Steve, but yes I think it would be nice, especially considering that it's a special anniversary. I know it always makes me feel that I've remembered Helen in a special way. You could even get an early morning mass before we head to Modesto. But like I said it's entirely up to you buddy boy."

Steve skimmed his last pebble even further and then he stood and sighed as the two swans appeared beside them again and seemed to be swimming along beside them in the hope of getting more bread. He stood watching them trying to decide what he should do for what seemed like a long time but was in reality about five minutes and then he looked back at Mike.

"How would I go about organizing one?"

"Well that's the easy part. We can go and see Fr. Driscoll over at St. Pauls. You remember him don't you?"

"Yeah, of course. The Martin Novack case. He was the one you said was as ornery as the devil as I recall."

Mike chuckled at that memory. And then playfully grabbing the back of Steve's neck he teased.

"Now don't you go reminding him I said that, ok?"

Steve smiled and wriggled out of Mike's grip and teased back.

"Only if you give me reason to Mike ..."

"Oh, you'd grass me up again would you?" Mike retorted, making another playful swat at Steve which he avoided expertly and Mike smiled, glad that at least the tension had been released for now.

They kept walking a little more before Mike ventured again.

"So what do you think? We could drop into St. Paul's on our way back to Bryant Street if you like?"

Steve stopped walking and put out his arm to stop Mike too. Then Mike noticed Steve's face turn serious again.

"Would he ... ask me all about it ... you know ... the accident I mean?"

Suddenly Mike understood the young man's concerns and he once more grasped his shoulder.

"No. You don't have to tell him anything you don't feel comfortable telling him, ok?"

Steve nodded and Mike definitely say a brief wave of relief cross his partner's face.

"Will you come with me and ... do most of the talking Mike? I wouldn't even know what to ask for and ..."

Steve was talking fast out of nerves and Mike stopped him mid sentence.

"Of course I will. Now let's head back to the car and over there now. Strike while the iron is hot that's what I always say, huh buddy boy?"

Steve nodded, relieved that Mike would help him to organize it. They headed back to where they had parked and Mike once more insisted on driving. Back settled in the car Mike drove off towards St. Paul's Catholic Church on Valley Street. As they set off, Mike noticed that Steve seemed a little more settled. He hoped that talking about everything had helped him and was even more delighted and surprised when he heard what Steve asked next.

"Mike? You didn't happen to get ... by any chance ... one of those chocolate doughnuts that I like from George's did you? You know the ones with the chocolate in the middle and the ... "

" ... sprinkles on top? Yes, I know the ones you mean. Well now let's see ..."

Stopped at a red light again Mike reached over and into the brown bag and watched Steve's face light up as he produced the very doughnut he had requested.

"You mean this one?"

"Yeah ... thanks Mike."

Handing it to the young man beside him he watched happily as Steve tucked in to the tasty treat as he drove off again as the red light changed. It was good to see Steve eating something at last and the rest of the journey was spent in companionable silence.

As they arrived in Valley Street across from the Church and pulled up at the kerb however, Steve's nervousness seemed to return and for a brief moment the young man looked like he regretted partaking of the chocolate doughnut.

"You ok buddy boy?" Mike asked concerned by the drastic change in Steve's composure.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok." Steve flustered unconvincingly as together they exited the car and having crossed the road they mounted the many steps that led up to St. Pauls.

They entered the main body of the Church which on this hot Summer's Day was remarkably cooler inside, the marble and stone keeping the air at a more agreeable temperature. The Church was empty and Steve found the overwhelming silence almost oppressive. As they walked up the central aisle and reached the top Mike whispered quietly to Steve who was just a step behind.

"You know I always feel so peaceful when I'm in the Church. Don't you feel that?"

Steve looked curiously at the older man and shuddered violently, a reaction that Mike noticed immediately. He stopped the young man from walking any further and studied him intensely.

"What?"

Steve shrugged and whispered back.

"Actually ... seeing as you asked, it always has the opposite effect on me. When my Grandfather used to bring me as a kid, the place used to give me the creeps."

"STEVE!" Mike scolded as his young partner came out with such a damning statement about such a holy place.

"Sorry! But you did ask. All those cold statues always looked like they were staring at me and the quiet. Don't you find the quiet unnerving?"

"No! Actually I LIKE the quiet."

A smile crossed Steve's lips and he started to speak but thought better of what he was going to say.

"Actually there was this one time ... Ah no forget it."

"What? What happened one time?"

Steve blushed.

"Never mind. It's not important."

"Steve, you can't just start telling a story and then leave me hanging. Come on, what happened?"

Steve shifted from one foot to another and then seemed to decide to spill the beans.

"Ok, well there was this one time that my Grandfather brought me to the church. It was for a funeral of a friend of his. I think I was about six or seven and we were passing the confessional box and this elderly priest came barging out of it and damn near scared the life out of me. Well I started screaming my head off and Harry had to take me outside and I refused to go back in. I ended up sitting outside on the steps with this lady who cleaned the Church playing I-spy while the funeral went on inside."

Steve laughed quietly at the memory and Mike couldn't help joining him.

"Well no wonder you were afraid of the Church after that."

"Yeah ... you know I haven't thought about that for years. " Steve said nostalgically but then as other memories came flooding back his laugh faded and his face grew serious again. Mike watched him closely not liking the sudden change.

"You know actually, the more I think about it ... I think the Church freaks me out because nearly all my memories in them are of funerals."

Mike watched as a solemn and haunted expression drifted across his partner's face as he continued his painful recollections.

"Coffins, people crying and those giant wreaths. You know the ones I mean? The ones shaped like a heart, all beautiful and decorative until you see them on the grave weeks later rotting and you realize that so are the people ... you love ..."

Steve's voice broke and an involuntary sob left his lips as the emotions he had held back so long and heart wrenching memories choked him inside. He almost swayed where he stood and Mike, shocked by the extent of his partner's heartbreak, reached around his shoulders and steadied him, lowering him onto the Church pew behind him.

"Ok now, ok. It's alright. I understand."

Before Mike could say any more Fr. Driscoll's booming voice came from the Sacristan's doorway at the back of the altar.

"MIKE? Is that you?"

As he headed towards them, his footsteps audible on the stone floor, Mike could feel Steve cringe at the thoughts of being seen by Fr. Driscoll in such an emotional state. He tugged out of Mike's grip and was rubbing at his eyes and face frantically in a bid to compose himself better. Mike knew he had to head Fr. Driscoll off before he reached them so he spoke quickly to Steve.

"Steve, stay here for a minute and get yourself together. I'll tell him you're just lighting a candle. Follow us into the Sacristy when you're ready ok?"

Steve just nodded and squeezed Mike's hand, grateful for the rescue attempt.

"Will you be ok out here on your own?"

Again the young man nodded miserably.

"Yeah ..."

"Ok. Oh and no looking at the statues! Got it?"

That at least raised a half smile from the young man before he turned and grabbed Fr. Driscoll's hand warmly, leading him back the way he came.

"Good to see you Father. I wonder if I might have a minute of your time? Steve will join us in a minute, he just wants to light a candle first."

"Why sure. Good to see you too Mike. I hope this isn't an official police call like last time though."

"No, purely a social call this time I can assure you." Mike answered and as the priest entered the Sacristy, Mike cast a quick glance back at Steve first to make sure he was ok before following.

Steve heard both their voices fade and was once more surrounded by the oppressive silence. Despite Mike's playful warning, Steve looked up and the cold face of a statue seemed to stare down into his soul, making the young man shiver again. It was so quiet Steve could hear his own ragged breathing and felt his heartbeat pounding in his chest. He glanced sideways at the ornate altar and horrific memories, long buried came back to haunt him. As he watched in his mind's eye, the altar transformed and all he could see were two mahogany caskets side by side with a large heart shaped wreath hung between them. He remembered the hard Church pew beneath him only then his feet dangled, not touching the floor. Then he remembered that someone had been holding his hand really tight. He glanced down at his hand almost expecting to see the same hand grasping his but saw nothing and as he glanced back up, the scene thankfully faded.

Totally unnerved by the sudden flashback, and with his hands shaking, Steve stood and headed swiftly towards the Sacristy to join Fr. Driscoll and Mike, trying to deep breathe and calm himself as he went.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: This is heading to be slightly longer than I had anticipated but I hope those who are reading it are enjoying it enough not to mind. I had promised you a chapter yesterday which due to real life I was unable to deliver so I thought I would give you a smaller chapter this morning to make up for it. Thank you again for the wonderful feedback and the encouragement and I hope you enjoy this next installment.**

Chapter 3

Mike followed Fr. Driscoll into the Sacristy and then into a side room, where the priest gestured to a couch by the window for his friend to sit down on. Mike sat down and fingered the fedora in his hand as the kindly priest took a seat opposite him.

"So Mike, to what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?"

"Well actually I'm here for Steve out there. He needs an Anniversary mass for his parents and I told him that you were the person to see."

"Well then you came to the right place. What date were you looking for?"

"Ah, well there's the slight catch. We were hoping for tomorrow if you could manage It? I'm sorry for the short notice but ... you see it's ... well it's kind of a special anniversary tomorrow. They passed away ... twenty five years ago and he wants to mark it in a special way if that's possible."

Fr. Driscoll's face fell.

"Twenty five years? But ... the young man isn't much older than that is he?"

"No ... They died in a tragic car accident when he was only five. Look, the fact is he's still a little guarded about the whole thing so I'd appreciate it if you ... well if you didn't ask him too much about it when he gets in here, if you don't mind?"

"Of course ... Of course, I understand. That must have been extremely hard for him. You have my word."

An uncomfortable silence then fell between the two men as both thought of the tragic circumstances that the young man outside must have had to endure and as they waited patiently for him to arrive. Eventually Fr. Driscoll broke the silence.

"Say Mike, how's Jeannie doing these days? "

Mike went on to tell Fr. Driscoll about his daughter but as the minutes passed by Mike began to worry when his partner never appeared.

 **Meanwhile outside ...**

Steve was glad to leave the sanctuary of the Church and passing through into the Sacristy he heard Mike and Fr. Driscoll's voices coming from a room off to his right. He felt comforted by the sound of Mike's voice and felt the tension slowly leave his body. He stood outside the room for several seconds until his breathing slowed and then although he still hadn't managed to calm his shaking hands, he knocked on the door and opening it quietly, he entered the room. Both pairs of eyes turned to look at him and he felt self-conscious and awkward. Fr. Driscoll was quick to jump up and advance towards him shaking his hand warmly.

"Ah Steve! There you are. It's good to see you again, my boy. We thought you'd gotten lost out there but I fully understand. The power of prayer and the peacefulness out there can distract even the most troubled soul. Come in and sit down."

Mike could tell by the pained and troubled expression on Steve's face that he hadn't been reveling in the so called peace that the kindly priest was referring to and instead he was extremely worried by how ghostly pale his partner had become since leaving him last. The young man moved slowly and sat down beside Mike on the couch.

"Now that you're here, how about I rustle us up a pot of tea, what do you say fellows?"

Steve just wanted to sort out the mass and get this meeting over with and stammered nervously.

"No, please don't go to any trouble Father. I think we need to get back to the office soon don't we Mike? ... "

Mike spotted Steve's shaking hands and figured a cup of tea might be just what the young man needed to settle his obvious disquiet and so he answered.

"That's alright Steve. We have time for a quick cup. Thank you Father. That would be lovely."

"Great. Well that's settled. I won't be a few minutes and it's no trouble at all, really."

Mike saw the troubled look that Steve shot at him as he insisted they stay longer but waited until the priest had left the room to answer it. As Fr. Driscoll's footsteps echoed further down the corridor outside, Mike turned quickly to face his clearly distressed partner.

"Are you ok buddy boy? You're as white as a sheet?"

Steve visibly trembled and yet looked away, purposefully not meeting Mike's gaze.

"Yeah ... I'm ok ... Look I'm sorry about outside. I guess being in the Church just got to me that's all ... but I'm ok now ... "

Mike frowned as he heard the words ok leave Steve's lips as the young man's visual appearance was anything but ok.

"Steve, I'd find it easier to believe you were alright if you actually looked it! You look terrible."

Steve knew he wasn't fooling his partner and so turned to face Mike and stammered nervously.

"I told you, Churches just freak me out a little. Listen Mike, maybe this was a bad idea. I think we should say that we changed our minds and that we have to get back to the office when he comes back."

Mike looked alarmed at Steve's statement.

"Why? What's gotten into you? You were all for the mass a while ago. What changed your mind?"

Steve had no intention of telling Mike about his horrific flashback so instead he flustered and stuttered.

"I just ... changed my mind that's all. I ... I really don't think it's gonna work Mike. Please, can we just go?"

Steve's nervous disposition was alarming and so Mike reached out and grabbed his arm and felt him shaking uncontrollably.

"Steve! You're shaking. What happened out there?"

Steve pulled his arm out of Mike's grip and rubbed an unsteady hand through his hair.

"Nothing happened ... I ... I ... just want to go back to work that's all. Please Mike?"

Mike studied Steve unnervingly trying to make sense of what had upset him so much in the mere passage of minutes between arriving at the Church and entering the Sacristy. Finally he spoke comfortingly.

"Steve look, we'll get the mass sorted and go back to work, I promise, ok? Tomorrow you'll feel different when there are other people in the Church. Trust me, ok? It'll be fine, you'll see. Now just hold on, drink your tea and we'll be back in Bryant Street before you know it, ok?"

Steve wasn't convinced and didn't look it either. As he cast a doubtful eye at Mike and was about to protest further, the door opened and Fr. Henry Driscoll arrived in with a laden down tea tray. China cups on china saucers and a plate of biscuits and small cakes adorned the tray. He set it down on the small table beside Mike and sitting down he proceeded to pour the tea into three cups. Mike glanced sideways and saw Steve staring at a large, imposing statue in the corner of the room, his face ghostly pale, his fingers once more intertwining nervously and Mike felt him tremble once more. Mike nudged him with his elbow and Steve turned to see why he had received such a harsh nudge from his partner. Mike whispered very quietly.

"I told you not to be staring at the statues ... "

Steve leaned in slightly and whispered back.

"Sorry ... But I already told you they give me the creeps ... "

Mike once more shot a disapproving look in his direction to which Steve shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. With the tea poured, Fr. Driscoll questioned them.

"Mike, do you take milk and sugar?"

"Milk, no sugar please. But Steve takes three with milk" Mike added feeling a sugar boost was what the young man needed.

Steve opened his mouth to protest the unnecessary sweetness when he was rewarded with another nudge to silence him. Again Mike heard a whisper in his left ear.

"Ow! Will you please stop doing that?"

The teas were distributed and Steve took his, extra carefully. Holding the cup and saucer very gingerly in his still trembling hands and knowing he had Mike's eyes bearing into him, watching his every move, Steve took a sip of the extra sweet tea and held back a grimace at the bitter sweet taste. The plate of treats was handed around and Mike took a biscuit politely but the mere thought of them made the butterflies in Steve's stomach increase and he declined any. Then Fr. Driscoll after a mouthful of his own tea stood up and retrieved a large black journal from a shelf in the corner of the room.

"Now let"s see about this mass shall we? Tomorrow, tomorrow ... " He mumbled as he found the correct date. "Ah perfect. Gentlemen, I can say the nine o 'clock early morning mass for them if you'd like, or is that too early?"

Steve looked at Mike for guidance and hoped deep down that the older man would remember his words from earlier and tell Fr. Driscoll they had changed their minds. After the way the Church made him feel outside just now, he felt that he wouldn't make it through an Anniversary mass and would only embarrass himself by even trying to. But his heart sank almost to the floor as he heard Mike's reply.

"That would be fine, thank you Father. We do appreciate it ... Don't we Steve?" he added ready to nudge the young man again at his marked lack of response but thankfully before he had to, Steve's shaky voice chimed in.

"Yes ... Thank you ... Father."

Mike studied Steve and was again worried by the haunted look he had on his face. He was about to ask him if he was alright but Fr. Driscoll spoke again.

"Ok, I'll pencil them in for the nine o'clock mass. What were their names Steve?"

Steve never answered and seemed to be in a world of his own. As the priest looked at the young man and then curiously at Mike, Mike touched his partner's knee which jolted him back, the cup clattering on its saucer as he did. He saw both men staring at him and felt his cheeks heat up as he flustered. He looked at Mike who nodded his head towards the priest and understanding, Steve stammered.

"Sorry ... Father, did you ask me something? "

"Yes Steve. Your parent's names. I need them for the book."

"Oh of course. Ah Richard and ... Elizabeth Keller."

Fr. Driscoll jotted that down and then to Steve's dismay he rounded on him again with boundless enthusiasm, something that right at that moment in time Steve was unable to reciprocate.

"Now, what about hymns?"

"Hymns?" Steve stuttered nervously, his mouth feeling suddenly parched again and grabbing his teacup tightly as it began to jitter noisily against the saucer giving away his current unease. Picking it up from its saucer, he drank it in one go, this time glad of the sweetness to calm his nerves and was relieved that Mike had witnessed his predicament and removed the delicate china from his grip and returned it to the tray safely.

"Yes Steve, hymns. The choir here sings at the nine o'clock mass. Are there any hymns you'd like them to sing for your parent's mass?"

Fr. Driscoll's stare bore straight through him and he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. He didn't even know many hymns and felt a million miles from his comfort zone. He turned and looked at Mike pleadingly to rescue him and thankfully Mike read his distress. Steve almost audibly sighed with relief as Mike answered for him.

"Father, I'm sure whatever the choir deems appropriate will be fine with Steve. Isn't that right? " he asked his partner with growing concern.

"Yes ... That sounds fine."

Just then an organ could be heard loudly from outside in the Church and Fr. Driscoll smiled warmly.

"Ah ... That's Mrs. Power now. Our organist. She often comes in at lunchtime to practice. We could discuss the musical arrangements with her if you'd like? I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Again before Steve could begin to panic, Mike expertly intervened on his behalf.

"No really. We trust Mrs. Power's judgement. I'm sure whatever hymns she chooses will be perfect. Thank you."

"Ok, but if you think of any specific one you'd like Steve before the morning, you can let me know and we'll arrange it. Now, do you want to say any words at it about them Steve?"

The color completely drained from Steve's face at those words and Mike thought he actually might collapse in a heap on the floor. Knowing Steve was badly struggling with this whole situation he grabbed Steve's arm and on getting his attention he spoke reassuringly.

"Steve ... you don't have to. It's just an option."

"Ok ... Then no ... I ... I don't think so ... "

Fr. Driscoll glanced at Mike and saw the worry on his face and studied the two men and their body language. Finally realizing that this discussion was having a very negative effect on the young man he quickly closed the book, effectively bringing the conversation to a close.

"Well then that about does it. Tomorrow morning it is. I had better not keep you gentlemen away from your policing duties any longer."

Mike stood up eagerly, wanting to get Steve as far from the Church as he could but to his added concern Steve remained sitting.

"Steve, let's go now." he urged,grabbing the young man's shoulder, not liking one bit how strangely and out of character his young partner was acting but Steve merely looked up at Fr. Driscoll and spoke barely audibly.

"Father ... I ... I really don't want a lot of fuss tomorrow. Just a simple mass in their memory is all I ask."

Steve's heart wrenching request touched both men and the priest stepped forward and firmly clasped Steve's other shoulder.

"I understand. The nine o'clock mass is never very well subscribed anyway. The congregation at that hour consists mostly of our, shall we say more mature church members. It will be quiet and yet dignified, I can assure you of that. You have my word."

This time Steve couldn't hold back the quiet sigh that followed the priest's assurances and he stood up then and shook Fr. Driscoll's hand.

"Thank you for that Father and for everything."

"You're very welcome Steve. Now let me walk you gentlemen out."

Fr. Driscoll gestured them ahead of him and Steve was the first to exit the Sacristy, followed closely by Mike and the priest last. As they exited into the main body of the Church, Fr. Driscoll stopped Mike briefly.

"Mike, actually just quickly while you're here, can I get your opinion on the color we painted the side chapel. I wasn't really sure it was the right one but the Parish committee were adamant they wanted that color and I didn't want to rock the boat so to speak. It will just take a moment. I'd really appreciate your opinion."

Steve stopped and watched the two men nervously as Fr. Driscoll ushered Mike off to the side of the Church, leaving him standing too painfully close to the altar again. Mike looked reluctant to leave his partner and yet not wanting to refuse the request he called back as he went, to Steve.

"Steve, we won't be long."

Steve had been about to ask for the car keys and tell Mike that he'd wait out in the car but by then the two men had disappeared from view into the side chapel. He shifted nervously where he stood and this time avoided looking up at the statue he knew was towering just above him on the pillar. The organ was playing quite loudly so the oppressive silence was no longer an issue but the vibrating notes that seemed to bounce off the stone walls only served to make him tremble more violently.

He didn't dare look towards the altar again for fear of his flashbacks returning but yet he felt a strong temptation to. It was as if it was calling him to look and so not able to resist it for more than a minute or so he glanced sideways and to his horror he remembered the two caskets again even more clearly. He closed his eyes and then returned his gaze back to the floor in front of him, his breathing quickening and his heart racing. He prayed that Mike would return but as the organ stopped temporarily he heard their still animated voices in deep discussion. His keen ear picked up Fr. Driscoll's deep enthusiastic tones discussing the merits of an eggshell blue and knew he had a few more moments of torture to endure.

Then the organ started up again. A different piece of music but one that rattled Steve's very soul. The music was strangely familiar but he didn't know why. He only knew that the feelings it evoked inside him were terrifying in nature. He felt his legs go weak and grabbed the Church pew to keep himself upright. He shut his eyes again as a vivid memory flashed through his mind while the haunting music played.

The hand that was holding his so tightly had started to shake violently. He remembered being scared as he felt it. That same music was playing and he looked up at the person beside him. It was his Grandfather. He was sobbing uncontrollably and Steve couldn't bear to see it. He couldn't speak. His words wouldn't come. Within seconds a swarm of people had surrounded them and were comforting the old man but from Steve's stature at the time he was overwhelmed by the crowd. His hand was then prised out of his Grandfather's grip by a well meaning elderly lady who then whisked him off reluctantly down the Church aisle telling him she would look after him for a few moments. He lost sight of the two caskets. He lost sight of his Grandfather. He had tugged out of the lady's grip and raced back into the crowd. A sea of bodies pushed and shoved around him and he had panicked. He couldn't find his way back to that hand he needed to hold. He needed to check if his Grandfather was alright. HE needed to feel alright. The world had swam and everything had started to fade around him. He remembered the stone cold floor coming up to meet him and then ... nothing but the faint sound of several screams and yells as he had passed out.

Steve opened his eyes with a gasp as the memory faded and the music continued to blare from the choir loft high up at the back of the church. Steve turned to stare at the side chapel, his breathing totally out of control and coming in heaves and gasps. He felt his heart beating way too fast and felt the dizziness begin to build. His legs still felt like jelly and he feared that history was about to repeat itself. He had to pull himself together but feared he was fighting a losing battle. He felt like he couldn't breathe and as if the stagnant air in the Church was suffocating him. He pulled at his tie desperate to free his throat a little and then heard hurried footsteps approaching from behind him. The scene around him tilted alarmingly and he couldn't stop his downward descent as he heard a panicked voice yell his name and the last thing he saw as he fell was a statue staring almost pitifully down at him as he felt the sharp painful thud as his shoulder and the back of his head hit the floor and the mosaic tiles on the ornate ceiling above him slowly faded to black.

 **A/N: Please forgive me for leaving you with another cliffhanger but this story is almost writing itself at the minute so the next chapter won't be far away...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: Thank you again to all those who are following this story and left such kind reviews. Your words mean an awful lot to me. I am glad you are enjoying it. Real life is still trying to hamper its progress but here is the next chapter. Thank you for your patience and support. :-)**

Chapter 4

As Mike left the side chapel, anxious to return to Steve as soon as possible, he was trying to convince Fr. Driscoll that canary yellow, while not as subtle a color as eggshell blue still had its own merits in that it was bright and cheery, but the sight of his partner stopped his argument in it's tracks. Steve was swaying precariously and was clawing at his tie desperately and Mike could tell that he was in trouble. Breaking out in a sprint he headed towards Steve as fast as he could but to his horror while still too far away to be of any use, he saw Steve go down and heard a sickening thud as the young man hit the floor.

"STEVE!"

Picking up speed he entered the aisle and saw Steve flat on his back on the cold stone floor. Fr. Driscoll was just a step or two behind him and when he reached Mike, Mike heard him invoke the help of every saint under heaven. Both men rushed to Steve's side and Mike's blood ran cold as he saw Steve had lost consciousness. Kneeling beside Steve he checked his partner's neck for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when the steady pulse reached his fingertips. Fearing that Steve had hurt himself badly from the horrible sound that had been heard as he had hit the floor, Mike asked Fr. Driscoll to help him turn the young man onto his side to check the back of his head for injury. Together they turned him over very carefully and Mike was pleased to see that there was no blood or visible cut but as he probed gently, he could feel a distinct lump forming just behind his left ear under the young man's wavy locks. Grimacing as he found it, he looked at Fr. Driscoll and the priest saw Mike's reaction.

"What? What's wrong?"

"He has a doozy of a bump forming back here." Mike said as he got Fr. Driscoll to hold him on his side while he removed his coat and bundling it up he placed it on the stone floor and turned Steve back onto his back just as gently, the coat now underneath his head.

"I think I better call an ambulance. That floor is pure stone. If he hit his head hard ... " the priest said, unable to finish the sentence, fright and worry evident in his voice.

Just as the words left his lips, Steve started to groan and appeared to be starting to come around.

"Wait a minute Father. Let's just see how he is first. But we could use some ice for to take down that swelling."

"Sure, I'll get some from the Rectory. I won't be long."

Mike nodded gratefully as Fr. Driscoll got up and headed off to fetch the ice and Mike reached down and loosened Steve's tie and opened the top button of his shirt to give him some breathing room. He then leaned over again and examined Steve's head once more.

Steve could hear faint voices and felt a dull throbbing at the back of his head and a stronger ache in his left shoulder. Strange smells wafted around him of incense and candle grease and the same smells brought the bad memories back mercilessly again.

He could see many worried faces looking down at him and none of them he recognized. Their voices blended together into a loud frightening, cacophony of sound. Their hands were reaching for him and he was paralyzed with fear until a familiar voice stood out from the rest. Pleading for them to let him through, the sea of strange faces parted and his Grandfather appeared. The other people no longer mattered as the older man reached down and scooped him up in his arms. Steve remembered burying his face into his Grandfather's neck, so that he could no longer see the two caskets or the other scary faces and he remembered clinging to the older man as if his life depended on it. He had felt his Grandfather's grip tighten around him and with a gentle hand on the back of his head he had heard his Grandfather's whispered voice in his ear as he was carried from the Church. _"It's just you and me now Steve. But you don't have to worry now. No-one else will ever take you away from me again. We're going to be ok, you and me."_

Now Steve felt a hand on the back of his head again but this time the hand was probing and it was hurting. He wanted to yell. To tell whoever it was to stop but his voice wasn't cooperating. He heard his name being gently called and a gentle hand on his face. He wondered if it was his Grandfather but something inside was telling him that it wasn't. He forced his eyes open and saw a blurry figure leaning over him. For a few seconds the fear returned as he struggled to get his bearings and remember what had happened. He blinked his eyes a few times and his vision cleared and Mike's face, frowning and pale came into view. The organ was still playing the same piece of music and the sound of it and Mike's worried face brought what happened back instantly and he tried to get up with a start, but Mike's hand prevented him from getting very far and the movement caused the pain in the back of his head to temporarily worsen and he screwed his eyes tight until the waves of pain abated.

"OW! ... Mike ..."

"Easy now buddy boy. Take it easy. Don't try to get up. You hit your head. You need to lie still for now. What happened?"

As the pain eased back, Steve opened his eyes again and remembered that he was still lying on the Church floor and the bad memories made his anguish return.

"Mike ... let me get up will you? I'm ok ... I didn't hit my head that hard. "

"Well just you let me be the judge of that, ok? You're not getting up until I've checked you over. Now you didn't answer me. What the hell happened? And DON'T tell me nothing. "

"I just felt dizzy that's all and I ... I ... felt like I couldn't breathe. I guess I just passed out."

Mike gave the young man a stern look and it made Steve cringe inside.

"Damn it Steve. You're holding out on me. Now something is going on with you and you need to let me in on it. Do you hear me?"

The music was still playing and setting his nerves on edge. He wanted to scream at her to stop playing. It wasn't helping him think straight. He covered his ears with his hands and the action made Mike's expression change back to one of concern.

"Steve? What's wrong?"

"That ... music ... Mike, get her to stop playing it ... Please ... "

Mike startled at Steve's strange and desperate sounding request. He listened to the music and tried to understand why it was having such a bad effect on the young man lying in front of him. He felt Steve tremble and quickly turned and shouted up towards the choir loft, his voice extra loud, to carry the distance and to match the loud volume of the organ.

"MRS. POWER? Could you stop playing for a few minutes please?"

A wrong note played and then the music stopped and a woman's voice followed soon after, as a face appeared looking out over the choir loft.

"Oh, good gracious!"

Steve dropped his hands from his ears and reveled in the quiet that he had detested a half hour earlier and Mike grasped one of his hands.

"That music. Is that what caused this? Steve answer me ... Did that music remind you of something? "

Steve didn't have the energy to evade Mike's probing questions anymore. He merely nodded and then pleaded some more.

"Mike, this is embarrassing ... Please let me get up. I NEED to get off this floor ... "

Steve's choice of the word "need" sent alarm bells ringing and he felt there was an awful lot more that Steve was keeping to himself. He could feel Steve's urgency to get up but he knew he had to check him first.

"Ok, listen to me now. I need to check you first and then if I'm satisfied with your responses I'll let you sit up, ok? But you're going to have to work with me now."

Mike held up four fingers and questioned Steve.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Thankfully Steve's vision had cleared fully and he had no problem seeing Mike's fingers clearly but as a result he felt the checks were unnecessary and they added to his frustration.

"Four ok? Mike I can see clearly. Honest. Now please just let me up."

"STEVE. Not yet. "

He held his fingers up a few times more each time altering the amount of fingers he showed his partner. Steve albeit begrudgingly answered with the correct response each time. But Mike was not finished yet.

"What day is it?"

"AW MIKE ..."

"Buddy boy, the longer you fight me, the longer you're going to be on this floor. Now what DAY is it?"

"Thursday. My name is Steve Keller and I live at 287 Union Street. Alright? Are you happy now? I'm not concussed. I'm just sore ok, now will you please let me get UP?"

Mike studied Steve for a few seconds more. His pupils looked normal and his memory and vision appeared to be ok, from what he could tell, but the growing bump still worried him. Two sets of footsteps drew his attention and he saw Fr. Driscoll approaching from the Sacristy and glancing behind him he saw Mrs. Power approaching from the back of the Church. Steve heard the footsteps too and groaned agonizingly.

"Oh God ... "

Mike could see how mortified the young man was at his predicament and the fact that other people were now coming to witness his embarrassment was only making the situation more distressing for him so weighing up everything carefully he decided to allow the young man a little dignity.

"Ok, you can sit up but that's all for now. Just get up slowly though. "

Steve looked grateful for being allowed even that respite and with Mike's help he managed to sit up and taking him by the shoulders Mike sat him up against the end of a Church pew. As Mike's strong hands gripped his shoulders, his left one protested and he yelped in pain.

"STEVE. What caused that yell? Was it your head?" Mike asked, fear gripping his heart like a vice, worrying that perhaps he shouldn't have given in and moved him.

"No ... no ... My left shoulder." Steve was breathing erratically as the pain increased and then thankfully slowly dissipated. "I ... I ... must have hit it when I fell ... Ouch, that hurt" he finished through gritted teeth, and Mike noticed that his right hand came up in a protective movement to hover beside it but not touch it.

Fr. Driscoll arrived back beside them first, holding an ice pack and while he was somewhat relieved to see the young man was back awake, the pained look on his face did nothing to calm his fears for the young detective. Mrs Power arrived next, a woman Mike figured to be in her early fifties. Her greying hair was tied back in a bun and her hands clutched her chunky woolen cardigan around her in a worried gesture. She looked horrified at the sight of Steve sitting on the floor and exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh my good Lord. What happened to the young man?"

Fr. Driscoll crossed over to where she stood and tried to reassure her as best he could.

"We're not sure Mrs. Power but please don't worry now. We'll take care of him. Why don't you take a break and pop inside to the Sacristy and get yourself a cup of tea? You look like you got quite a shock just like the rest of us. If we need you we'll call for you. Alright?"

"Ok Father. Yes, I think I will. If you're sure I can't be of any assistance?"

"Thank you for the offer Mrs. Power but I think we have everything under control here. You go ahead now" he encouraged as she nodded politely and headed towards the Sacristy.

Mike looked gratefully at the priest knowing that Steve would appreciate one less spectator at the minute and knowing that Fr. Driscoll's actions meant that he had already figured that much out.

Handing the ice to Mike, Fr. Driscoll spoke urgently.

"Should I call that ambulance now Mike? He doesn't look good."

An added look of horror spread across Steve's face at the mention of an ambulance and despite the throbbing in the back of his head and the pulsating ache in his shoulder, he protested vehemently.

"NO! No ambulance. I'm fine ... just a little sore that's all. I'll be ... ok"

As much as he tried to make it sound convincing, it didn't come across that way and Fr. Driscoll looked at Mike again for his take on the young man's condition. Mike returned Fr. Driscoll's worried glance but wasn't quite sure what their next move should be. The declaration of a new injury wasn't helping to ease Mike's worries although remembering that not so long ago the young man had moved both arms upwards to cover his ears, he hoped that was a good sign that nothing was broken. Mike addressed Steve again.

"Can you move your left arm or does it hurt too much Steve? "

Steve was almost afraid to try, but knew he had to find out so he very carefully lifted his left arm out sideways and was relieved to find it didn't hurt him at all. It was enough to bring a temporary smile to his face as he announced thankfully.

"Yeah, I can move it. That doesn't hurt. I think my shoulder only hurts if you touch it. "

"Are you feeling sick at all or ... dizzy?"

"No ... "

Steve's breathing eased and Mike finally felt a little easier. Knowing how much his partner detested ambulances, hospitals and excessive fussing he made his decision.

"No, Father I don't think an ambulance will be necessary. He doesn't seem to have any signs of a concussion so I think we'll just get the ice on that bump and hopefully that will bring it down a bit."

Reaching forward and applying the icepack to the back of Steve's head, he felt Steve tense up and suck in a breath.

"Sorry buddy boy. You're really going to feel that tomorrow, you know?" Mike spoke sympathetically and winced in sympathy with how sore the bump must be to have caused such a violent reaction to the ice.

"What do you mean tomorrow? I feel it NOW." Steve said forcing a smile, quite obviously trying to lighten the tension his collapse had caused but not fooling either man as to the amount of discomfort he was in.

"What happened Steve to make you pass out like that? Weren't you feeling well?" Fr. Driscoll asked, trying to work out what had happened.

Mike looked down at Steve and a strange look crossed his partner's face. Steve didn't want to tell either man what had actually happened but at the same time with the throbbing in his head, he couldn't think up another valid excuse. Feeling somehow that the young man needed rescuing again, Mike spoke for him for the third time in the last hour.

"Father, we were in the Golden Gate Park for a picnic lunch before we came here. It's very hot out there today. He could have gotten a touch of sunstroke, perhaps?"

While Mike disliked telling a little white lie to a priest of all people, he had only said perhaps and was confident that he could extract the truth from the young man later in his own way.

Fr. Driscoll seemed to accept that explanation quite readily and even sympathized.

"Oh, that can be nasty. Happened to me once out in Los Angeles. I ended up laid up for a whole day with it. You had better take it easy for the rest of the day young man."

"Oh don't worry Father. I'm gonna make sure he does." Mike said directing his statement at the young man he was administering to and seeing Steve's expression turn to one of dread as he knew Mike's fussing would be insufferable for the rest of the day as a result.

"Say how about we get him up and take him back into the Sacristy? He'd be more comfortable lying inside on the couch in there than on this cold hard floor. " Fr. Driscoll suggested kindly but from where he was holding the ice against Steve's head Mike felt Steve react badly to that suggestion.

Steve just wanted to get out of the Church and his breathing quickened again at the thoughts of staying there any longer than he had to. In panicked tones he chimed in before Mike could accept the offer on his behalf.

"No ... thank you Father. I ... I just need some air. Can you both ... please just bring me ... outside?"

Steve's breathing was becoming labored again and Steve felt like the Church walls were closing in on him. He felt the dizziness return and knew if he keeled over again, it would mean a one way ticket to the ER so he struggled to stay alert. Mike could see he was struggling and quickly beckoned for the priest to help take his other arm. Between them they helped Steve up and grabbing his coat up off the floor, Mike and Fr. Driscoll helped him walk down the central aisle and out the main door of the Church. As they got outside, Steve swayed slightly and they sat him down on the Church steps.

Mike sat down beside Steve and watched him breathe in several lungfuls of fresh air. He still looked decidedly flaky and Mike spoke firmly.

"Steve, you're not going to pass out on me again, are you? Because if you do, I'm getting that ambulance . Do you hear me? You're scaring me now."

"No ... no I'll be fine now. Really."

"I'll fetch him a glass of water." Fr. Driscoll kindly offered and once more headed back into the church.

The day was still hot but the top of the steps was still mostly in shadow and thankfully the afternoon breeze seemed to gradually revive him. Thankful to be finally out of the confines of the Church, his breathing settled and the bad memories seemed to leave him alone for now. Mike never took his eyes off Steve for a second as the young man seemed to come around better.

"Are you ok now?"

"Yeah, I feel much better now. Thanks ... Sorry Mike ..."

Mike put a hand on Steve's right shoulder and took advantage of Fr. Driscoll's temporary absence.

"It wasn't sunstroke was it? You remembered something didn't you? Something that made you panic? What was it? Come on Steve. Don't hide it from me. Something in that Church freaked you out and I'm not buying that it was just the statues."

Steve suddenly felt tired. He looked at Mike and knew that at the very least he deserved an explanation. He took a deep breath and then spoke nervously.

"Yeah, yeah you're right. I ... I didn't think I remembered too much about their funeral you know. I mean I was only five but ... but being in there just now ... things ... well memories came back to me ... "

Mike tensed up as he heard the angst and sadness in Steve's voice. While he was pleased to have called it right, he knew that only some fairly horrific memories could have caused such a negative reaction in his partner.

"Do you want to talk about them?"

Even at the mention of them , Steve felt his heartbeat increase and so he shook his head, regretting the move as he did, as he felt a headache building deep in his skull and the back of his head throbbed mercilessly.

"Not now ... " Steve pleaded as he lifted his hand and pressed it against the back of his head.

"Ok, but you're going to have to tell me about it later buddy boy. I mean it. You can't bottle it up any more. Do you hear me now?"

Mike's words left no room for argument and so Steve nodded, this time more carefully.

"Is your head hurting?"

"Yeah, I think I'm getting a doozy of a headache."

"With the size of that bump, I'm not surprised. Here put the ice back on it."

Steve took the ice from Mike and hanging his head, he applied it to the bump.

"Steve, I know you're not going to like it but ... well I'd feel better if we get you checked over. "

Steve's head whipped back up at Mike's words but the pain that exploded at the back of his skull by his careless action stopped any protest that had been forthcoming. As the pain abated and he opened his mouth to protest again, Mike's stony glare made him change his mind and he merely hung his head again and mumbled to himself.

"Oh man ..."

Mike was just about to try and convince him that a trip to the Hospital was for the best when Fr. Driscoll reappeared at the top of the steps and came towards them with the glass of water. Handing it to Steve who accepted it with thanks, he then turned and spoke to Mike.

"Mike, can I have a quick word with you for a minute please?"

Mike nodded and standing up he leaned towards Steve.

"I'll be back in just a minute. You stay put and don't budge off that step. Not one move, buddy boy. Do you hear me? "

Steve merely nodded gingerly again, sipping the water with one hand while still applying the icepack with the other and resigning himself to his fate even though an afternoon of being poked and prodded by Doctors under the ever watchful eye of Mike and the endless fussing that would be sure to follow was Steve's idea of hell on earth.

Mike ushered Fr. Driscoll up towards the doors of the Church out of earshot of Steve but still keeping the young man in sight. He felt that Steve would never disobey his direct order to stay put but knowing how much Steve detested medical intervention of any kind and also knowing his actions since he picked him up this morning had been totally out of character for the young man, Mike wasn't taking any chances. Standing facing Fr. Driscoll with Steve in clear view behind the priest he spoke.

"Yes Father, you wanted to talk?"

"Look Mike, I've known you a long time and I'd like to think that you know that anything you confide in me stays strictly confidential between you and me, whether in the confessional box or out of it but I've seen enough anxiety attacks in my time to know that Steve is NOT suffering from sunstroke. Now is he?"

Mike shifted uncomfortably where he stood, admiring Henry Driscoll's keen eye and the fact that he hadn't called him out over it in front of Steve.

"No ... it's not sunstroke and I'm sorry for misleading you but ... well it's complicated and I ... well to be honest I don't know the full story myself yet. But yes you're right. I think anxiety caused him to collapse too. It's got something to do with his parent's funeral and bad memories he has of that time and ... being in the Church today seems to have raked it all up for him and not in a good way. That's all I know Father and now you know as much as I do."

Fr. Driscoll looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then cast an eye behind him at Steve who looked utterly miserable and was now holding his throbbing head with his eyes closed against the bright sunshine.

"I see ... well I appreciate your honesty Mike and like I said it stays between us. But you know not everyone feels as comfortable and at peace in the Church like we do and if he had a bad experience of the Church as a young boy that can seriously affect how he feels about it now. Maybe tomorrow's mass isn't such a good idea for Steve, Mike. He mightn't be able to cope with it. Have you thought about having a quiet memorial service at their graveside instead? It would be out in the open air and out of the confines of the Church. He might cope with that a lot better."

"No, no he'll be fine. Actually I happen to think this mass tomorrow is just what he needs. He needs a positive experience of the Church to erase the bad one he remembers. Besides, I'll be with him and between the two of us we can get him through it. No, no he'll be ok."

"I hope you're right Mike, I really do. I'd gladly ... talk to him about it but only if you think it would help?"

"I appreciate the offer Father, I really do ... but Steve doesn't talk about his past a lot. As a matter of fact he barely talks to me about it. If he even knew I'd told you as much as I have ... Well anyway ... I'll try to get him to talk about it later on when he's feeling better."

"You know he still looks awful, Mike. Perhaps you should just get him checked over to be on the safe side."

"Yes, don't worry. That's where I'm taking him right now whether he likes it or not! Thanks for your help Father and we'll see you in the morning. Oh, I do have one special request though ... could you ask Mrs. Power not to play "Abide with Me" tomorrow?"

Fr. Driscoll looked curiously at Mike and then his face lit up as he seemed to understand.

"That's the hymn Mrs. Power was playing when he collapsed ... You think that has something to do with what he remembers?"

"Yes, I'm certain it does, so better not to tempt fate tomorrow. So you'll ask her for me?"

"Of course Mike. I'll ask her."

"Great. Thanks. Could I trouble you for two more minutes to help me get him over to the car? "

"Sure."

Both men headed back to Steve and as they reached him, he looked up at them.

"Come on buddy boy. Let's get you up and over to the car."

Steve's face fell as he realized that with Fr. Driscoll in tow behind him that meant a two man escort again.

"No, I can walk myself now. Mike there's no need to ..."

"STEVE " Mike interrupted . "When the Doctor says you can walk by yourself , you can WALK by YOURSELF. Until then I'm taking no chances. Now come on. No more arguments. "

Steve groaned audibly and blushed a deep shade of crimson as he was lifted by the two men off the step and with an arm each they escorted him down the many steps and across the street to their car.


	5. Chapter 5

**Gone But Not Forgotten 5**

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. Life is continuing to be difficult but here is chapter five finally. I hope it proves to be worth the wait. Thank you again to all those who are reading and reviewing. Your support is appreciated and makes my stories worthwhile. :-)**

Chapter 5

After Steve was safely placed onto the passenger seat of the LTD, Fr. Driscoll wished them both all the best and they were on their way to San Francisco General. Mike suggested they put on the gumball to get them quicker through the afternoon traffic but the look Steve gave him was enough to let him know that was NOT going to be an option. While Mike weaved his way as best he could through the heavy traffic, while still keeping an eagle eye on his partner, Steve leaned his throbbing head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

"STEVE! Don't you dare go asleep. Not after a head injury. Stay awake until we get you checked out."

Mike's shout reverberated around his throbbing skull causing his headache to pound more viciously. As the pain settled again, Steve opened his eyes and pleaded quietly.

"Mike, please don't shout ... My head is hopping. I'm not sleeping, I'm just resting my eyes ... Ok?"

Mike looked suitably remorseful for causing Steve more pain but was still concerned none the less. Speaking in a lower tone he continued to talk to Steve to keep him alert just in case.

"Steve. I'm sorry for yelling but ... We're just two blocks away now. Could you please just humor me and wait and rest your eyes at the Hospital? I'd sure feel a lot easier if you did. Please?"

Steve knew that Mike was in full worry mode and so reluctantly agreed. Anything for a peaceful life he thought. He'd had enough bad memories and drama for one day.

Thankfully on arrival at the Hospital, they found the ER unusually quiet and Steve was seen quite quickly as there was a head injury and a bad headache involved. Less than a hour later Mike was called over by the Doctor and informed that Steve was doing fine. He was showing no signs of concussion but just to be on the safe side they had arranged two x-rays, one of the left shoulder and one of the back of the head. The Doctor said he didn't expect to find anything but that it was just an added precaution and for piece of mind only.

"So he's alright then Doctor?" Mike asked with relief in his voice.

"Yes, He'll be fine. From what I can see he just had a nasty fall. His shoulder is badly bruised and he has a nasty bump at the back of his head. Apart from being quite sore for the next day or two and possibly having a lingering headache that he'll have to keep at bay with painkillers, he'll be fine. But I can't release him until we get the x-ray results back. They'll take another half hour or thereabouts. In the meantime, we've given him some pain meds and we have him resting in cubicle three. You can go in and keep him company if you like? I don't think Hospitals are his most favorite place to be somehow."

Mike smiled at that major understatement.

"You called that right Doc. He didn't want to come here in the first place but if he's ok, then maybe I did just waste everyone's time by bringing him here. Forgive me Doctor."

"No, you're always better to get a head injury checked out so you did the right thing but ... I think you might have your work cut out for you convincing that young man in there of that."

"You know I think you might be right there too. "

Both men chuckled and Mike thanked the Doctor for looking after his partner so well and then he headed for cubicle three. When he pulled the curtain across gently he saw Steve lying on the gurney with his eyes closed. His shirt had been removed and there was just a sheet up over his chest. There was an angry looking, dark purple bruise visible on his left shoulder and Mike winced at the sight. Thankfully Mike saw no wires or drips. He knew Steve had a hatred of needles and was glad that he was at least spared that particular discomfort. A nurse was present in the cubicle, writing notes on his chart but on seeing Mike she beckoned him in. He spoke to her in a whispered tone.

"Is he sleeping?"

An unexpected voice answered him from the gurney.

"No ... HE ... is NOT. HE is still resting his eyes and before you start fussing and shouting again, this headache is only starting to ease so please don't."

The nurse shot a sympathetic look at Mike and Mike returned it. He could tell from the annoyed sounding voice that Steve was literally like a bear with a sore head and hoped the young man hadn't been in a similar mood with the Doctors and nurses too.

The nurse seemed to read the older man's mind and smiling as she passed Mike on her way out, she whispered.

"He's been fine, he's just hurting. The painkillers should kick in soon and make him more agreeable. I'll go check on how long his results will take." Then in a lower voice again she added. "Good luck."

"Thanks, I think I'm going to need it " Mike whispered back, smiling warmly to the nurse as he did.

Again Steve's voice answered. "I HEARD that!"

Mike's smile faded and as the nurse left the cubicle he came around the side of Steve's gurney.

"Well at least your ears are working. I hope you haven't been that grumpy with the staff since you arrived. They're only doing their job you know? If you want to be grumpy with someone then I'm the one who brought you here, so take it out on me, not them."

"Are you giving me permission? "

"Now look STEVE ... " Mike began, getting annoyed with Steve's childish sulk but then he remembered that maybe Steve had a right to be annoyed. He had been off form all day and after finally confiding in Mike about what had been causing his angst Mike had dragged him to the one place that had seemingly caused him to suffer even more and he had gotten hurt as a result. And if that wasn't bad enough, he had then insisted on dragging him off to the only other place he detested more than anything. Maybe the young man had a right to be annoyed. At Mike's initial angry outburst, Steve had recoiled and looked sorry for his sarcasm.

"I'm ... I'm sorry Mike. This place just drives me nuts. How much longer have I got to stay here?"

"No buddy boy. I'm the one who should be sorry. I guess I just felt it was my fault that you got hurt having persuaded you to go to the Church in the first place and ... well I needed to make sure you weren't seriously hurt, that's all ... But you were right. It was just a bump on the head and I shouldn't have dragged you here after all. So I'M sorry Steve ... really I am."

Mike sat down in a chair beside Steve and hung his head, twisting his fedora in circles through his fingers nervously as he did. Steve felt bad after hearing Mike's heartfelt apology and any ill will he had been harboring for being dragged here against his will seemed to fade. Reaching out his hand he placed it on Mike's shoulder and the touch brought Mike's head back up to look at him.

"It's ok Mike. I know you were just worried. If you'd fallen like that and got a bump on your head... well ... I ... I guess I would have insisted you got checked out too."

Mike smiled mischievously.

"And I would have been every bit as grumpy about it as you are now too. Wouldn't I?"

Steve smiled back.

"Yeah ... "

"Maybe we deserve each other, huh?" Mike said lightheartedly but instead of a flippant response Steve's face grew serious and in a soft tone he replied awkwardly.

"I'd like to think so ... yeah ... "

The heartfelt meaning of Steve's answer wasn't lost on the older man and he reached out and gentle ruffled Steve's hair careful not to touch near where the bump was and then spoke genuinely.

"So you're not mad at me?"

Steve smiled a cheeky smile.

"I WAS ... But not anymore. I know you were just worried. So ... we're ok. "

Mike's smile widened and he gripped Steve's hand and squeezed it gratefully.

"Anyway ... the Doc said the X-ray results shouldn't be long. And he doesn't expect there to be anything wrong so you should be out of here soon enough. How's the head?"

"It's not as bad as it was. They gave me something for the headache so it's starting to ease."

"Good. Well, it looks like we have about a half hour wait and if you're feeling a little better, I sure would like to know what happened back there in the Church. Are you up to telling me now?"

Steve knew that question was inevitable so wasn't surprised when it slipped into the conversation. He settled back into the pillows, and resigned himself to full disclosure. His hand left Mike's shoulder and instead his gaze fell on the white sheet, his fingers nervously pulling at it as he sought the right words to explain what had happened.

"Yeah, I guess so. Look this is going to sound crazy ... but in the Church earlier, I ... well memories came back to me and I ... and I saw them Mike. "

Steve swallowed hard and felt his heart ache at the memories that had returned to haunt him. He glanced briefly at Mike to see his reaction and wasn't surprised to see shock and a look of horror cross his face. But it was enough to make Steve return his gaze to the bed sheet.

"Saw who Steve? Your parents?" Mike asked unable to hide the shock and worry from his voice.

"Yeah ... but not like you think. I saw ... their two caskets. Clear as day Mike. Up in front of the altar. There was a large heart shaped wreath hanging between them and ... there was a photograph of them in a frame on a small table between them. I mean it was like a flashback or ... I don't know just a snippet of a memory maybe but I saw them and I felt the way I felt then ... "

While Steve had been talking, Mike studied him closely. He looked shook and sad and Mike knew this conversation was difficult for him to share. He reached over and placed his hand over Steve's, effectively stilling his nervous scratching of the material.

"You must have been remembering their funeral Steve. Who ... who were you there with?"

Steve didn't answer straight away but Mike felt Steve's fingers tremble under his and he squeezed them soothingly.

"I didn't remember that at first. The first time it came to me I just remembered that someone was holding my hand really tight and I had a really clear view of the altar so I guess I must have been in the front row seat. But ... then I guess it freaked me a little so ... that's when I hurried off to the Sacristy to you and Fr. Driscoll."

"Well no wonder you looked like you had just seen a ghost when you joined us in the Sacristy. In many ways in your mind's eye you just had."

Steve felt Mike squeeze his hand again and risked another glance sideways. Mike's eyes were full of pity and in a strange way it wasn't what Steve wanted to see. He had seen enough pity in people's eyes as a boy to recognize it and to learn to despise it. He never wanted people to pity him. He only ever wanted them to understand and to treat him like any other normal child. He was a normal child. It was just his circumstances that were different. He couldn't help feeling disappointed at Mike's reaction and looked away again and pulling his hand out from under Mike's, he laid it across his stomach instead.

Mike startled at his sudden withdrawal and wondered what he had done to cause it.

"Steve? What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?"

Steve felt himself getting annoyed again. He was fed up lying on the Hospital gurney and fed up of having to explain himself. He hadn't asked to lose his parents so young. He hadn't asked for any of it. He had coped the only way he had known how to and people had no right to judge him for it. He never looked at Mike but spoke angrily.

"I don't need your pity Mike. I was only telling you because I thought you cared, that you'd understand and not just pity me like the others. Well I'm sick of it Mike. Save your pity for people who need it. I DON'T!"

Mike startled at Steve's sudden anger but recovered quickly.

"HEY, HEY, calm down will you? You'll have that headache back again. What caused that? "

"I saw it in your eyes Mike... And believe me I've seen it enough times to recognize it. People think it's what you want to see but it's not. It never... was. "

His voice broke and the anger gave way to upset. He turned away as his eyes began to water and Mike grabbed his left arm and held it tightly, suddenly starting to understand why Steve was so guarded about his past and why he never spoke of it to anyone. The young man had suffered so much and had obviously been treated like damaged goods instead of how he had wanted to be treated, just like everyone else. Maybe he had been guilty of feeling pity and so he couldn't argue that point but not for the same reasons that Steve thought he had and he had to make the young man see that. He also needed to make Steve understand that his past however tragic it had been, had made him the strong, unique and very special person he was today.

"Steve, I'm sorry. Ok? I'm sorry if you saw pity in my eyes but don't assume you know why. I wouldn't just pity you like that because I know ... what that kind of pity feels like. "

Those unexpected words hit Steve like a ton of bricks and he whipped his head around to look at Mike, forgetting to hide the tears that were clearly glistening in his striking green eyes on the spur of the moment. He never spoke but instead his facial expression begged the question.

"That's right. You heard me correctly. When Helen died and for months afterwards people pitied me like that and you're right there too. It doesn't feel good. But then I learned to distinguish the ones who pitied me because they cared and the ones who pitied me to make their own lives feel somehow better than mine. And that's where the difference lies between you and me. "

Steve looked puzzled and Mike quickly explained.

"Steve, when Helen died I was old enough to make that distinction and filter out those who genuinely cared but dear God Steve, you were only five. You didn't have the wherewithal at that age to do that and so it all seemed wrong to you and hurtful and isolating. Am ... Am I right?"

Steve looked crestfallen. He had never thought of it like that. Perhaps he had wronged people who had been genuinely concerned for his well being all those years ago. And now he had wronged Mike. Mike of all people and in the process he had even managed to drag up unpleasant memories for him too. He didn't even know how to make it right and as he stared at Mike, he couldn't stop a tear falling from his left eye and dropping onto the pillow. He didn't know if his voice would cooperate if he tried to apologize as his emotions failed him and so he kept it simple.

"Sorry Mike ... "

The words held a lifetime of hurt and regret and the falling tear had not been missed by Mike who quickly placed a hand on the young man's cheek and spoke quietly.

"Shush now. You don't have to be sorry. I understand, honestly I do. I know you weren't doubting our friendship so don't get upset. Look, you've had one hell of a day and you're fed up and hurt. Tomorrow's anniversary is bothering you and upsetting memories have been dragged up and you're doing your best to deal with them so don't be so hard on yourself. Ok? "

Steve nodded sadly and tried to force a smile but it just wouldn't form.

"Steve? Did you have more flashbacks while I was in the side chapel with Fr. Driscoll?"

Again Steve just nodded.

"Did that piece of music trigger them? "

"Yeah... "

"What did it make you remember?"

"My ... Grandfather. He's the one who was holding my hand. When that hymn played he ... he started to cry but ... it ... it was my fault Mike."

More tears followed the earlier one and Mike became alarmed at the level of distress audible in his partner's words.

"Steve, for heaven's sake, it was a funeral. You didn't make him cry. It was a sad occasion ... "

"No, you ... you don't understand ... It was something I said ... "

"Something you said? Steve, I don't know what you mean. Tell me what happened."

"I don't think I really understood what was happening. He told me that they had to leave and that they were in the two caskets but I asked him why we couldn't just let them out. He told me they were magic boxes like at a magic show. That the people went in them but they really went someplace else through a secret door in them, but that the only trouble was with these ones there was no way to get back. "

Mike felt his heart break as he thought of Steve's Grandfather trying to explain to his five year old grandson why his parents weren't around anymore and actually thought it was a clever explanation that even a small child might find easier to understand. He admired the man's quick thinking but Steve still hadn't explained what had made the old man cry.

"But Steve, what did you say that you felt made him cry?"

Steve didn't answer and Mike could see that he was having trouble getting the words out but after several tortuous seconds he finally answered.

"I asked him if we could ... go through the magic box too and be with them again? "

Steve closed his eyes and could see his Grandfather's reaction in his mind's eye. As the solemn hymn played and the funeral service was coming to a close his grandson's innocent words had pushed his grief to breaking point and he had started to sob uncontrollably.

Steve brought both his hands up to cover his face as he felt his own guilt and grief well inside him.

"Mike ... it was the only time ... I ever saw him cry ..." Steve said in gasps of anguish.

He hadn't recalled that memory for the longest time. The pain and upset of it meant his heart and brain had buried it in the deepest recesses of his mind until today when that haunting hymn had been the key that unlocked it and made him suffer it again. It was a moment in time he wished he could totally erase, never to dwell on again but Steve then realized in that moment that he had many such moments in his life so far, far too many that could ever be fully erased. As he lay and relived the agony of a traumatic time in his life, Mike was struggling with his own demons beside him.

Mike sat frozen, as for a brief moment words of comfort failed him. He couldn't bear to hear the pain in his partner's voice. He struggled for the right words to say and for the appropriate action to take. He had to let the young man deal with his pain in his own way but at the same time he had to let him know that this time he had Mike's shoulder to lean on. He had interfered enough in his grief today and all it had resulted in was more hurt and needless suffering for him. Now what could he say or do to make Steve feel better?

There had been very few times in his life when he had been this speechless or unsure of what to do but one of those times came back to him as he remembered Jeannie's face as her mother, his beloved wife Helen had lost her fight for life. He remembered how she had clung to him desperately as if he might leave as well and struggling with his own grief at the time, words had failed him just like they had now. Then he remembered how he had hugged her and patted her back and said the only words that he could manage at the time. " _It's ok sweetheart, I'm here. We'll be ok. Everything will be alright you'll see. I'm right here Jeannie and I always will be."_ He remembered how after hearing his words she had relaxed a little and while they had stayed like that for quite sometime after, those moments had helped them both cope with their tragic loss.

Mike came out of his own tortured memories and looked over at Steve on the Hospital gurney. Steve still had both hands covering his face totally obscuring it from Mike's view but still Mike could feel the pain and hurt almost emanating from him and while there was an unnerving quiet about him as if he was forcing himself not to be upset in front of his partner, Mike suddenly knew what had to be done. Reaching over he placed a hand on Steve's forehead and spoke.

"Steve, it's alright. Let it out now. Don't fight it, you've held onto it for too long. Do you hear me now? It's ok. I'm here and you're not alone anymore. Everything's going to be ok. You'll see."

As the words left his mouth and reached Steve's ears he felt Steve tremble and heard the choked sobs, silenced by his hands. Mike left his hand on the young man's forehead to maintain contact and after only a few minutes the sobs died down and the awkward silence returned. It was several more minutes before Steve finally rubbed at his face and removed his hands, clearing his throat and turning his head away from Mike to regain his composure and hide his embarrassment. As his left hand fell back down on the gurney, Mike removed his hand from Steve's head and clasped it instead and allowed him the time he needed to recover from the upset. As he heard Steve's breathing return to normal he finally spoke.

"Are you ok now?"

"Yeah ... thanks Mike."

As Mike had a grip on his left hand, he suddenly noticed a plaster on the crease of the young man's elbow. Frowning at it, he then decided to use his new discovery as a diversionary tactic.

"I thought that you'd got away needle free but I guess not, buddy boy. Huh?"

Steve looked back around at him and then at the plaster that Mike had noticed.

"Oh that, yeah they took some bloods ..." he said very wearily, the traumatic events of the day taking their toll.

"Bloods? What for?"

Steve seemed reluctant to answer that question but knew if he didn't Mike would just get the answer from the medical staff anyway so he replied.

"They ... were concerned why I passed out in the first place. They wanted to check my bloods just in case."

Mike frowned again.

"I don't suppose you told them that you didn't get much sleep last night, that you haven't eaten much since yesterday or that you were coping with traumatic flashbacks at the time of your collapse, did you?"

Steve shook his head, again not catching Mike's eye but then he seemed to reflect on what Mike had just said and stated defiantly.

"Wait a minute. I never said I didn't sleep last night."

"You didn't have to. It was written all over your face when I picked you up this morning, buddy boy." Mike said patting his hand and smiling, knowing by Steve's reaction that he had called it right.

"You are really something, you know that?" Steve added playfully, the first hint of a smile playing around his lips" I can't hide anything from you can I?"

"Not much, no." Mike replied in an equally light tone. "So when are you going to stop trying to, huh?"

A small chuckle erupted from Steve's mouth and it warmed Mike's heart to hear it.

Mike couldn't help but grin and he spoke from the heart.

"I have to say it sure is good to see you smile again. You haven't done too much of that today and while I do understand why you haven't, well ... I guess I missed it in a funny kind of way. Look Steve, now that you're feeling a little better I don't want to cause you to be upset again but ... can I ask you one question that's been bothering me?"

Steve looked curiously at Mike and while he was slightly nervous as to what the question was, he was feeling a little stronger and Mike's unwavering support and friendship had been a key factor in that so he felt ready for the question whatever it was or at least he hoped he was.

"Ok Mike, go ahead."

He swallowed hard and prepared himself for whatever Mike was about to ask.

"Did you collapse at your parent's funeral Steve?"

Having felt prepared, Steve instead found himself taken aback by the unexpected question. He looked shook by Mike's perception and stuttered as a result.

"How ... How could you possibly know that?"

Mike grinned. "Well I am a pretty good detective you know? You said earlier that when you had the flashbacks you felt as you did then. If you keeled over then, you might just have recreated those feelings in your subconscious and caused it to happen again as a result. The more I thought about it, it was the only thing that made sense. Not bad detective work, huh?"

Steve still looked amazed and taken aback but as Mike had spoken, he looked more admiringly at the older man.

"You never cease to amaze me, you know that?"

"Well, I do try." Mike said with false modesty and a hint of mischief in his voice. " So ... you want to tell me about it?"

"Ok ... "

Steve took a few seconds to compose himself for the telling and then began.

"When my Grandfather got upset, people ... well they started to crowd around him to comfort him I guess. This lady ... I guess she thought she was helping because I was scared by his crying, so she prised my hand out of my Grandfather's grip and she started to take me away down the church. But I ... well I guess I panicked a little ... I didn't know her and I needed to stay with him. I was afraid that he might ... leave too and so I pulled out of her grip and I ran back but there were too many people and I couldn't find my way back to him. I found myself in the middle of the crowd and I couldn't get through them. I ... I couldn't breathe Mike ..."

As he spoke Steve's breathing became labored and Mike could see he was reliving it again in the retelling. He quickly stopped the young man from continuing.

"Ok, ok relax, I get the picture. Don't dwell on it. Breathe slower Steve."

Steve looked at him and did as he was asked, glad not to have to recall it any more.

"Well that explains why you collapsed earlier. You were reliving that trauma in the church just like you were now. That's why you found it hard to breathe."

Steve nodded and then looking down at the bedsheets again he frowned as something seemed to bother him.

"Steve? What's the matter. Are you ok? I haven't upset you again have I?" he asked back in full worry mode as he noticed a distinct change in his partner's demeanor.

Steve was looking around the cubicle purposefully and answered Mike halfheartedly, his attention clearly on something else.

"No ... I'm ok ..."

Mike watched him for a few seconds more as he searched the cubicle.

"Steve? What are you looking for?"

"My shirt. You didn't see where they put it did you?"

Having been worried seconds earlier, the fact that Steve had merely been looking for his shirt brought both relief and a chuckle.

"Your shirt? Is that all? You scared the hell out of me. "

"What do you mean is that all? You're not the one lying here with half your clothes missing."

This made Mike laugh even more.

"Ok, ok buddy boy. Feeling a little ... exposed are we?" Mike said teasingly

"Very funny. Will you please just go and find out what they did with my shirt?... Please?"

"Sure, sure. I'll go find out if it's bothering you that much. Ok?"

Mike stood up and went to exit the cubicle but as he pulled the curtains across to exit Steve called him.

"Mike?"

Mike turned to look at his partner whose face was not as sad as it had been and yet it seemed serious.

"Thanks Mike ... you know for ... caring ..."

Mike winked at Steve and then spoke sincerely.

"You're welcome. Say you fancy a coffee to go along with that missing shirt?"

"Sounds good ..." Steve replied smiling gratefully as Mike nodded and left and Steve pulled the sheet back up over himself self-consciously and waited for Mike to return and hopefully for word that he could get out of the Hospital soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

Chapter 6

Steve didn't have to wait very long for Mike and five minutes later, Steve looked hopeful as Mike came back in through the curtain.

"Did you find it?"

"They said it's under the gurney. No wonder we couldn't see it" Mike replied and placing the two cups of coffee that were in his hands down on a side cabinet he bent down and found Steve's shirt underneath the gurney where the nurse had said it was and handed it to the young man. Steve smiled and went to sit up.

"Hey, don't get up too fast now. Take it nice and slow."

Steve scowled and rolled his eyes at Mike's fussing but did as he was told and sat up slowly. As he was about to put his arm in the sleeve, a mischievous look crossed Mike's face and he spoke again.

"No, don't put it on yet."

"Why not?"

"The nurse said they have to take more bloods first. "

Steve's face fell and he stammered.

"More bloods? ... Why?"

Mike couldn't keep the prank going and started to laugh and Steve knew he'd been had. Reaching out he swatted at Mike with the shirt before proceeding to put it on quickly, just in case Mike's little joke actually did come true.

"MIKE. That WASN'T funny ... " he whined as Mike continued to laugh.

Not wanting to cause further offense, Mike feigned a serious expression and apologized.

"I know, I'm sorry. I was just teasing you ... But you should have seen your face ... " Mike said unable to contain himself and chuckling again.

Steve tried to scowl again but Mike's laughter was infectious and he knew his partner had just been trying to keep things lighthearted after all the trauma this day had already provided so he couldn't stop himself from giggling too.

"Very funny ... You're a laugh a minute, you know that?"

Mike was glad that Steve had seen the funny side of his harmless teasing and then handed him one of the cups.

"I'm sorry buddy boy. I just couldn't help myself. You know I think Haseejian is having a bad influence on me. Here, I got you a coffee. And I only put one sugar in it, just as you like, ok? Truce?"

Steve nodded still smiling and took the steaming cup of coffee. The aroma of it wafted upwards from the plastic cup and his smile widened. Taking a sip he seemed to savor every drop as it slid down his dry throat.

"Aah ... That's just what I needed. Thanks Mike."

"You're welcome."

The two men sat in companionable silence for another ten minutes, drinking their coffee but as the minutes passed and still there was no sign of his release, Steve grew visibly more restless. Sitting now on the edge of the gurney he ran a hand through his hair impatiently and fumed.

"Surely those results should be here by now. Did you see the Doctor when you were out there?"

"No ... Will you just relax please? They should be here any minute now."

"You said that FIVE minutes ago and five minutes before that. "

Then suddenly a frown appeared on the young man's face. Turning to Mike who grew curious at the sudden change in his expression, he spoke apprehensively.

"You don't think they found something do you? Oh man. You know I bet that's it. They found something and I'm going to be stuck in here tomorrow for the Anniversary. Just wait and see. That would be just typical of my luck today."

Mike heard Steve's pessimistic rant and stood up, placing a calming hand on the young man's right shoulder as he did.

"Hey, hey stop thinking the worst will you please? The Doctor wasn't expecting to find anything so I'm sure everything will be fine. Maybe I shouldn't have got you coffee. It's just wound you up more than you already were."

"If nothing has shown up, then what's taking so long, huh? Tell me that. "

"Steve, you are NOT the only patient in this hospital. The man could have been called away to an emergency. Now please ... Try to relax will you? For me?"

Steve sighed loudly and nodded reluctantly.

"Look, I know you're fed up waiting but just give them five more minutes and if we haven't heard anything by then, I'll go see what I can find out. Ok? What do you say?"

"Ok ... Five more minutes."

Mike smiled at Steve's agreement but then turned and checked his watch nervously. He knew Steve's patience had ran out about a half an hour ago and hoped the Doctor would arrive soon before he had to start convincing the young man out of discharging himself. Mike's prayer was answered as the sound of the curtain being pulled back drew both his and Steve's attention and Dr. Lopez arrived into the cubicle.

Mike could see the anxiety on Steve's face and hoped the young man's premonition was not about to be realized as he knew Steve's reaction to being kept in would not be a pleasant one.

Thankfully the Doctor didn't keep them in suspense for long.

"Well Mr. Keller, just as I expected your results came back fine. There are no fractures or breaks and thankfully no sign of an internal bleed. All in all, you've been very fortunate but you might want to take it easy for a day or two. You still had a nasty fall."

Steve's sigh this time was clearly one of huge relief and Mike noticed his smile return.

"So I'm free to go Doc?"

"Yes ... however I would advise that you don't ... "

Yes was the only thing Steve heard and he jumped up quickly off the gurney, anxious to get out of there as soon as possible but as his feet hit the floor, a strong wave of dizziness hit and the cubicle tilted alarmingly. Steve swayed and nearly fell forward only for Mike, who reacted quickly and grabbed him to keep him upright. The Doctor rushed over and helped Mike to sit the young man back up on the gurney and while Mike looked worried sick, the Doctor spoke sternly.

"MR. KELLER! I was about to say that I would advise you NOT to get up too quickly or go racing around too fast for the next day or two. While that bump didn't cause any major damage, it will have thrown your balance off a bit, so nice and easy is the way to go for now, Ok? Otherwise, you may very well end up flat on your back again and I don't think you want a return trip back here, now do you?"

Steve shook his head very carefully as the cubicle finally stopped spinning.

"Should he be dizzy like that?" Mike asked concerned by the glazed look that had been in Steve's eyes moments before.

"He'll be fine as long as he takes it easy. "

"Oh, he'll take it easy alright. Don't you worry about that Doctor. " Mike assured him, still keeping a firm grip on Steve's elbow, much to the young man's annoyance.

Steve shrugged out of his tight grip and shook his head to clear the last of the dizziness.

"Are you alright now?" Dr. Lopez asked, watching his patient closely and taking the young man's pulse at the same time.

"Yeah, I'm ok now. I just ... wasn't expecting that to happen. I'll be more careful next time."

"I told you to get up slowly, didn't I?" Mike persisted and Steve scowled again in his direction.

"Ok, just sit still for another minute or two until that passes. Are you feeling nauseous at all?" Dr. Lopez asked.

"No, not at all. "

"How about the headache? Has that eased yet?"

"Yeah, it's fine at the minute."

"Ok, well that will come back and might linger for a while so make sure you take some painkillers regularly for the next thirty six hours at least, ok?"

"Sure ..."

"Does he need a prescription Doctor" Mike asked.

"No, aspirin or paracetamol should do the trick. I think we might just check your responses one last time to be on the safe side though."

Dr. Lopez took out his small light from his pocket and shone it into Steve's eyes one at a time and then instructed him to follow the light from side to side. Satisfied with the results, he then put the light away and looked down at Steve's file briefly and flicked through the recent pages. "Your bloods were fine too. I'm afraid I can't explain why you passed out like you did."

On hearing those words Mike started to intervene.

"Well about that Doctor, you see he hasn't ..."

Steve was horrified that Mike was going to tell the Doctor about his lack of sleep and appetite and quickly interrupted him, afraid that armed with that information, the Doctor might consider keeping him for further tests.

"Ah yeah, what Mike is trying to say is that it hasn't happened to me before and more than likely won't happen again so thank you for all your help Doctor." Steve said shaking the Doctor's hand warmly and then shooting Mike a look that begged him to remain quiet on the matter.

"STEVE ..."

"Mike, let's not keep the good Doctor any longer. Like you said earlier, he has other patients to attend to."

It was Mike's turn to scowl at Steve for his lack of disclosure of what he considered important information to the Doctor.

"Well, you're welcome Mr. Keller. I'll leave your discharge papers to be signed out at the the front desk. And remember ..."

"... Nice and easy. Yeah, I'll remember. Thanks Doc."

Dr. Lopez left the cubicle and immediately Steve rounded on Mike.

"Mike, what were you trying to do? Get me kept in here?"

"I was trying to tell the man the truth seeing as you had no intention of doing it." Mike rebuked.

"Aw Mike, come on will you. One night of no sleep and one morning and afternoon without much food is not going to cause me to pass out, ok? It wasn't important. Besides you said it yourself, it was the flashback that caused it."

"Well then why didn't you tell him THAT?"

"Because ... because I didn't want to ... Look Mike, he gave me the all clear now can we please just go?"

"Alright, alright I give up. Wait there until I get your shoes and your jacket."

Mike gathered up Steve's things and the young man finished getting dressed. Mike did notice that he seemed to have learned a lesson from the dizzy spell as he was moving definitely more carefully as he bent to put on his shoes and also noted that instead of putting the tie back on, he slipped it into his jacket pocket instead. Then they exited the cubicle and having signed his discharge papers and thanking the staff, they headed out to the car. When they got to the car Steve looked at Mike sheepishly and asked.

"Can I drive?"

"After that dizzy spell? No Steve, definitely not."

Steve looked fed up and sat into the passenger seat, effectively slamming the door behind him as he got in. Mike sat into the driver seat and turned to face Steve.

"Come on now. Don't be like that. You can drive to Modesto tomorrow ok? Just take it easy for the rest of today, will you?"

Steve didn't answer. He didn't even look in Mike's direction. Instead he pulled out his sunglasses and put them on and grumbled sulkily .

"So where are you going to drag me off to now huh? Or do I even get to know that much, this time?"

Mike sighed and reached out, forgetting about the young man's sore shoulder in his attempt to try and appease his partner. As he patted it, Steve jumped and yelped in pain.

"Ow Mike! Don't touch that shoulder."

"Mike drew his hand back away, cursing the fact that he had forgotten about the bruised shoulder in his bid to cajole Steve back into good spirits and apologized profusely.

"Oh I'm sorry Steve, I forgot just for a second. I won't do it again. Is it ok?"

"Yes ... it's FINE." Steve grouched, not fully letting on to the fact that now it was throbbing again mercilessly, thanks to Mike.

Mike sat back and seemed thoughtful for a moment or two.

"Ok, look you're right buddy boy. I have been effectively dragging you around this morning and afternoon as you put it, so now you get to decide where we go next. Ok? Will that make you happy?"

Steve glanced across at Mike and seemed to calm a little, despite his aching shoulder.

"You mean it?"

"That's what I said didn't I? Where do YOU want to go? You decide and I'll drive you there. Anywhere you like."

"You'll take me anywhere I want, no arguments?"

"No arguments. I promise."

"Ok, but ... you're not going to like it, Mike."

Mike looked curiously at Steve and then frowned as he felt he already knew where Steve wanted to go, but he still asked none the less.

"Ok, where?"

Steve shifted in his seat and took a deep breath.

"I want to go back to work and finish those reports before tomorrow."

"Oh Steve ..."

"Ah, ah! You said no arguments Mike. I trusted you."

Mike shook his head from side to side, knowing he had been caught out and that he couldn't very well back out of his promise now.

"Are you sure you're up to that?"

"Yes ... honest. Look Mike, it's just what I need. Something to ... well take my mind off things you know? Besides you're going to be there watching me like a hawk the whole time so what can go wrong, huh? Please?"

Mike resigned himself to the young man's decision but decided to just push his luck one more time.

"Ok, we can go to work, and you can finish your reports on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You stay in my spare room tonight so I can keep an eye on you."

"Aw Mike, come on. There's no need for that. They discharged me. Besides you promised. "

"Yes, and I'll keep my promise but I'll sleep easier if you stay over tonight. Come on, what do you say?"

"Mike ..."

Mike gave Steve his best pleading expression and Steve had to admire his persistence.

"Ok, ok you win. But I need to get stuff from home after work before we go to De Haro Street."

"Sure ..." Mike beamed and then turned on the engine and headed for Bryant Street while Steve lay back in the seat and marveled at Mike's ability to always get his own way.

It didn't take long to get to Bryant Street this time as the traffic seemed to be a little lighter. As they pulled into the underground car park and parked, Mike checked his watch again and saw that it was just after four in the afternoon. They had been missing from the office for more than four hours now, obviously longer than he had intended they would be and hoped Bill had kept things running smoothly in his absence. He also hoped Olsen hadn't been looking for them while they were out. Steve hadn't spoken much on the journey here and had seemed to Mike to be resting his eyes again so he had left him alone. However as Mike had parked the car, this time Steve never budged and leaning over Mike realized that Steve was asleep. He reached over to wake him, almost touching the sore shoulder again but remembering at the last minute and patting his arm instead.

"Steve? Steve, wake up, we're here."

Steve jolted awake and sat bolt upright, his head protesting as he did.

"OW! ... What ... Where? ..." Steve stammered as he tried to get his bearings.

"Easy now buddy boy. Give that sore head a chance to catch up. We're at Bryant Street."

Steve leaned forward with his head in his hands and removing the sunglasses he rubbed at his eyes and took a few minutes to wake himself up fully. Mike became concerned and wasn't happy with his choice to come to work at all. If he had made the choice, Steve would be home in bed right now catching up on his sleep while he got Bill or Healy to finish the reports and after Steve's unplanned doze it was even more obvious to Mike that sleep and rest were what the young man needed more so than distraction.

"You ok?"

Steve cleared his throat and sat back up, fixing his hair with his hands as he did.

"Yeah, I guess I dozed off for a bit. I'm ok now though. Let's go."

But as Steve opened the car door and went to exit, Mike grabbed his arm unexpectedly and stopped him.

"Wait a minute, Steve, I'm not sure you're up to this. There's still time to change your mind you know? You're obviously very tired and you look like death warmed up. Why don't I just take you home and you can catch up on some sleep, huh?"

"Mike ... I'm OK ... It was just forty winks that's all. I'll sleep later. Stop fussing will you, it's driving me NUTS!" Steve said with aggravation dripping from every word and he quickly turned and exited the car but stopped abruptly as he stood up as he felt the dizziness threaten to return.

He took a few steadying breaths, and unable to stomp off in a huff as he would have wished to, he had to settle for small careful strides as he headed towards the elevator. Mike had exited the car quickly, locking it up and sprinted after the young man, easily catching up with him, as he was walking so carefully to avoid repercussions. He got ahead of him just in front of the elevator and blocked his path with a hand on Steve's chest. This only served to frustrate Steve even more.

"Mike, for crying out LOUD. What NOW?"

"LISTEN. Will you just listen to me for one more minute? Please buddy boy?"

Steve shoulders sagged and he stared at Mike wearily.

"What?"

"Look, I know my fussing is driving you nuts and I'm sorry for that. I also know that I treat you like a kid sometimes even though you're a grown man and I'm even sorry about that too. But I know you Steve. You'd walk into that office and work whether you were up to it or not. And I need to know that you truly are. I'm your partner and your friend and I care about you and if that drives you mad then ... well ... I guess I'm very sorry about that as well. And if you'd prefer it then ... well I won't fuss any more." Then feeling that he had said enough he turned and punched the button on the elevator several times.

Steve looked suitably embarrassed and guilty for making Mike's little speech necessary and he looked down at the concrete floor and shuffled his feet a little as they waited for the elevator to arrive. There was an uncomfortable silence between them for several minutes except for the occasional sound of screeching tires as cars exited and entered the underground car park. Mike punched the button again furiously.

"What's keeping this elevator? Why does it always take so long?"

Steve reached out and touched Mike's shoulder.

"Mike ... look ..."

"Steve, you don't have to say anything. I understand. It's my fault, now just drop it ok?"

Steve needed to say something and fast before the elevator came, so this time with no time to spare, he caught Mike off guard as he spun the older man around to face him.

"NO, I won't drop it and no you don't understand and YES, I DO have to say something" he blurted out breathlessly then noticing Mike's shocked expression he knew he had his undivided attention and continued in a more subdued tone and with greater difficulty.

"Mike, I know you care and ... I don't want to seem ungrateful because ... well because I am ... More than you could ever possibly know but ... you see ... It's been quite a while since anyone did and ... I ... I've had to look out for myself for a long time Mike and I've gotten used to not being fussed over so when you do it I get frustrated and you're right, I shouldn't ... Damn it! This is not coming out the way I wanted it to ..."

Steve stopped talking and looked increasingly uncomfortable. Mike hadn't spoken and his face was unreadable. Steve didn't know what to say or do next and his face reddened from embarrassment. The door of the elevator opened behind Mike but Steve didn't alert him to the fact, mainly because he needed to hear a response of some kind from the older man before they got into the confining space and headed back to some form of normality. He needed to know that Mike understood why he acted the way he did and that he understood that he was grateful for Mike's friendship and support.

"Mike I'm sorry. I didn't explain that very well ..."

"You did alright buddy boy. I know what you meant and I do understand now. But you have to understand too that I find it hard not to fuss a little over the people I care about. Is that going to continue to be a problem?"

Steve felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as Mike spoke and when he knew Mike wasn't mad at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way ... MOST of the time ..." he added teasingly.

This made Mike laugh and Steve joined in, the tension once more leaving and their normal camaraderie returning. As Mike turned back around, the elevator doors had finished closing and he pressed the button a second too late as it headed upwards without them, much to Mike's disgust. Steve on the other hand found it strangely amusing and laughed harder.

"Oh, you think that's funny, huh wiseguy? Making us miss the elevator. You do know we're going to have to wait for ages before it comes back down again, don't you?"

As his laughter subsided, Steve turned and headed for the door to the stairs.

"To hell with it. Let's take the stairs Mike. And BEFORE you ask, YES, I am up to it, ok?"

"Alright funny boy, lead the way."


	7. Chapter 7

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

Chapter 7

Mike followed Steve slowly up the many flights of stairs. He had purposely let the young man go first just in case and without drawing unwanted attention to the fact he was already watching the young man closely for signs of dizziness or trouble of any kind. Nearing the last flight of stairs, Steve had made a sudden move that Mike hadn't expected and almost grabbed him thinking he was stumbling but realized in time that the young man was merely discarding his jacket as he often did coming back to the office from the car. He watched as his partner slung the jacket over his right shoulder and then followed him out the stairwell door and down the corridor to the Homicide Department. Entering the bull pen they were surprised to see only Bill at his desk and Sekulovich on the phone.

Steve greeted Bill and headed towards his desk while Mike stopped to talk to Bill momentarily.

"Sorry we are so late back Bill. Has there been any problems? Where is everybody?"

"Hi Mike, no everything's been fine. Healy is down in Records and Harris and Norm are attending a crime scene over at the docks. That just leaves Art and me holding down the fort. But the phones have been fairly quiet, and there's not much else to report really."

Then he turned towards Steve who was placing his jacket on the back of his chair and moving very slowly, something Bill didn't see very often as normally the youngest member of their team was a hive of energy.

"Hey Steve, I replaced your typewriter with Lee's one while you were out as per Mike's instructions and put your broken one in Mike's office."

"Thanks Bill" came the subdued reply as Tanner watched his colleague place paper in it and pull his chair closer and began to type halfheartedly.

Concerned by his colleague's earlier angry outburst and now by his very unusual lethargic demeanor, Bill Tanner turned back towards Mike and lowered his voice.

"Is he ok Mike? No offense or anything but he looks worse now after lunch than he did before it. Did something happen while you guys were out?"

Mike sighed.

"You could say that ... but it's a long story. He'll be ok. Were there any calls for me?"

"Yeah, Olsen called about twenty minutes ago. I just told him you were out of the Office but I didn't say where or why. He asked if you could go up to see him when you came back. Something about filling him in on the latest cases before his meeting with the top brass tomorrow?"

Mike frowned.

"Damn, I forgot about that. That could take a while knowing Rudy."

Then looking over at Steve and seeing him engrossed in his typing he leaned in and whispered to Bill.

"Listen, come into my office for a minute and bring that file you're working on with you, will you please?"

Bill looked puzzled but stood up and followed his Lieutenant into his office as he was requested to, noticing that Steve stopped typing and turned his head to look at them both curiously as they did. Mike entered first and held the door open for Bill to enter. As Bill went in, Mike closed the door and saw Steve watching him. He pretended not to notice Steve's stare and then removing his hat and coat he hung them up and gestured Bill to take a seat while he went around and sat on his own seat, still noticing from the corner of his eye that Steve was still watching both men intently through the glass.

Leaning forward he spoke quietly.

"Listen Bill, while I'm upstairs with Olsen, keep a close eye on Steve for me will you please, but try not to let him in on the fact that you're keeping tabs. You know how he hates fussing of any kind. He's watching us as we speak and he probably suspects that's what I'm asking you to do so hand me that file and pretend you're telling me about it."

Bill smiled broadly, knowing his back was to Steve and at the cloak and dagger lengths Mike was going to, to make sure Steve was ok. Opening the file and handing it to Mike, he leaned over and pointed to the page it had opened up on and leaned forward as if he was discussing it for effect. But instead he spoke candidly.

"Sure Mike, but what should I be watching out for exactly?"

"Like I said, it's a long story Bill and most of it is Steve's own business but while we were out he fell and hit his head and left shoulder. That's what delayed us, as I insisted he get checked out down at San Francisco General."

"God Mike. Is he ok? "

"Yes, he'll be fine Bill. Thankfully there was no major injury but he has a doozy of a bump on the back of his head and he's going to be sore for a day or two. However his balance is a bit off as a result and if he moves too fast he gets dizzy so that's why I need you to keep an eye on him for me. Think you can handle that?"

"No worries Mike. I'll keep my eyes peeled."

Steve's curiosity got the better of him and he was getting increasingly suspicious as to why Mike needed to see Bill. He decided to go and get himself some coffee and see what was going on and so he got up slowly and headed for the coffee table in front of Mike's office. Mike saw him getting up and knew what he was up to and quickly alerted Bill.

"He's heading to the coffee table, quick, tell me about your file and make it sound good."

As Steve reached the coffee table and started pouring himself a cup, he glanced briefly up into Mike's Office just as Bill began talking animatedly to Mike.

"So that's what we have on him so far. What do you think we should do next Mike?"

Mike saw Steve watching and took up his glasses from the desk and putting them on, he pretended to study the file in Bill's hand.

"Well I think it's worth looking into Bill. I think you had better keep a close eye on him at the very least, ok?"

The double meaning of Mike's answer was not lost on Bill and he smiled and nodded, closing the file in his hand and standing up to leave. As he did he spoke sincerely.

"Will do Mike, don't worry."

Bill Tanner turned then and left Mike's office, leaving the door open as he went. Steve didn't catch Bill's eye but was smiling as he rummaged in his trouser pocket for a dime and put it into the coffee tin on the table. Then he put cream and one sugar into his cup and stirred it slowly. Then he leaned sideways and peered around Mike's door.

"Mike? You want a coffee?"

Mike who was in the middle of frantically sorting through papers on his desk, looked up at Steve only briefly.

"What?"

"I asked if you wanted some coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks. "

Mike looked back down at his desk and seemed grumpy and distracted. Steve put his coffee over on his desk and then walking slowly he went into Mike's office.

"Is something wrong? What are you looking for?"

"Yes, something's wrong. I have a meeting up with Rudy to fill him in on the latest caseload and I had the report on my desk and now it's missing. Have you seen it?"

"No, not since I typed it up for you yesterday morning. Have you tried your desk drawer? You sometimes put the important files in there in case they get mixed up."

Mike pulled out his top drawer and smiled as he saw the report he was looking for just where Steve had thought it might be. He visibly relaxed and taking the report out, he then smiled warmly up at his partner.

"Thanks buddy boy ... Just as well you know what I'm doing half the time, huh?" he said jokingly.

Then standing up he crossed the office and stood in front of Steve and lowered his voice.

"Look Steve, I don't know how long this meeting is going to be but you know how Rudy is. It could take a while. Are you going to be ok?"

This time instead of being annoyed at the question, Steve smiled gratefully.

Yeah, I'll be ok. Stop worrying. I'm just going to sit quietly at my desk and finish those reports and as you can see, they're going to take a while too."

Mike looked past him at his partner's desk and saw the pile of reports still to finish and winced at the thought of the amount of work involved.

"Ok, but don't overdo it alright? If you don't get them finished I'll get Dan or Bill to finish them up. Ok?"

"Ok ... Now you better get going. You know how Olsen hates to be kept waiting."

"Don't I just ... Alright, see you later."

"Ok, good luck."

Mike headed out past Steve towards the squadroom door while Steve slowly ambled towards his desk. Reaching the outer door Mike cast a quick concerned glance back at his partner as he watched him gingerly sitting back down. Steve caught the look and started to chuckle.

"I'm sitting ok? Now get outta here."

Mike laughed and headed out but not before he received a reassuring nod from Bill that he was leaving Steve in good hands.

The next two hours dragged by and Steve waded through the towering pile of reports. The back of his head and his shoulder were sore but not annoying him too much and the pain meds he had been given in the ER, had kept the headache at bay but the endless clackity clack of the typing and the small black print were starting to take their toll. Steve glanced at his watch and saw that it was coming up to seven pm. He leaned back in his chair and closing his eyes he rubbed at his temples. The dull ache was starting to return and he tried to remember what time he had received the pain meds earlier. Figuring it was roughly around three, he knew they were probably starting to wear off and opened his desk drawer to look for his usual supply of paracetamol and frowned when he suddenly remembered giving Norm his last two, after he had arrived at work three days ago suffering from a hangover, from a retirement party he had attended the evening before.

Steve had been right and the reports had kept his mind off tomorrow's anniversary but now as he searched desperately in the hopes of a forgotten hoard of painkillers somewhere at the back of his desk drawer, his fingers had alighted on a photograph of his parents that he had even forgotten ever putting in there and it threw him for six. As he stared at the faces in the photo, memories came back into his mind and he sat frozen to the spot, his breathing becoming a little quicker and while it startled him a little when it came, he wasn't fully surprised when Bill's voice tore him from his thoughts.

"Steve? You ok?"

Bill had been watching his colleague closely and over the first two hours he hadn't noticed anything worrying or unusual. Even when he had sat back and rubbed his temples, it was an action he had seen Steve perform many times when he was tired or after a marathon typing session like he had just had. He had watched while Steve had searched his desk drawer and again didn't think much of it until Steve had stopped suddenly and seemed to be staring at something in the drawer despairingly. He looked as white as a ghost and Bill became concerned at that point. He hadn't wanted to draw attention to the fact that he had been observing him but he felt the question needed asking.

Steve flustered at the fact that Bill had noticed something amiss and closing the drawer a little too hard, he winced and regretted the action as his head throbbed. Speaking more shakily than he had intended to, he answered Bill.

"Yeah, I'm fine ... Thanks ... "

And then he pulled his chair back closer to the typewriter to suffer on in silence. Mike should be back soon he hoped, and he normally had a supply of painkillers in his desk that he would ask him for when he arrived. He was sure Mike wouldn't have minded him looking for some in his absence but he didn't feel right rummaging through Mike's desk so he decided to wait. His in-tray was down to one file and so he hoped to finish his work before Mike returned, headache or no headache. As he picked up the last file and opened it and then opened his notebook on the correct page he placed new paper in the typewriter and started typing again but this time the clackity, clack sounded more to his tortured head like thumpity, thump.

As if things couldn't get any worse Norm's booming raucous voice filled the bull pen as he shared his latest unrepeatable joke with Harris as they came thundering into the squadroom in Norm's unique inimitable style.

Steve groaned under his breath and prayed that Norm wouldn't engage him in conversation but as his run of luck would have it, Steve was the first person Norm spotted. In a loud voice he approached Steve who visibly cringed and tried to steel himself for what was ahead. Before Steve had a chance to react defensively, Norm arrived behind him and had slapped both the young man's shoulders in a friendly greeting, and he had to choke the yell that threatened to escape as a burst of pain exploded through his left shoulder.

"Hey kid, you're back. Bill said the Boss took you to lunch. You guys go anywhere nice? Did you bring me back any leftovers? "

Steve didn't reply straight away as he dealt with the waves of pain that were assaulting him and when he did, his voice came out raspy.

"No ... sorry ... Norm."

"Aw ... No fair. " Norm teased, squeezing Steve's shoulders unaware of the pain he was inflicting.

Thankfully Bill saw Steve's reaction and remembered what Mike had said about Steve having a sore shoulder and rescued the young man from Norm's antics.

"Hey Norm, leave Steve alone. He's trying to finish those reports. Besides there's a doughnut on my desk going a begging if you want it?"

At the mention of an unwanted doughnut Norm released Steve's poor bruised shoulder and headed for Bill's desk, and as the pain subsided a little, Steve shot a grateful look in Bill's direction. Norm took his proffered treat and thankfully returned to his own desk to eat it.

Now with his shoulder pulsating and his headache worsening Steve felt terrible. The renewed discomfort made his stomach churn and as he threw a glance over at Norm devouring the doughnut, and watched as jam dripped down his chin and he spoke with his mouth full, the half chewed contents of his mouth displayed for all to see, Steve felt overwhelmingly nauseous. Despite having practically nothing except a few bites of the earlier sandwich, a soda, a chocolate doughnut and two cups of coffee in his stomach, his body was determined to make sure he rid himself of its contents. In his alarm at how quickly the nausea struck, Steve stood up too fast and grabbed the desk as his head spun. He righted himself and then decided that dizzy or not, he needed to reach the restroom quickly so he stumbled purposefully towards the squadroom door, thankful that everyone except Bill was now around Norm's desk while he repeated his latest humorous joke and weren't noticing his hasty exit. As he exited into the corridor, he congratulated himself for remaining upright and with a hand on the wall for added support, he made his way without delay to the restroom. To his added relief the restroom was empty and he headed for a cubicle and slammed the door over quickly, just in time as the heaving began.

Bill noticed that something was terribly wrong and when Steve started bailing for the exit Bill stood up quickly to follow him, determined to carry out Mike's instructions but a strong arm arrived around his shoulders unexpectedly and drew him into the huddle behind him.

"Hey Bill, you're missing the joke. Wait until you hear it, it's a riot. "

"Norm, not now. "Bill protested as he tried to extricate himself from Norm's grip as he saw Steve disappearing out of the bullpen.

"Aw come on Bill, you know what they say, all work and no play makes Bill a dull ... "

"NOT NOW!" he shouted, finally freeing himself and racing out after Steve.

Norm looked shocked and then shaking his head incredulously he yelled after Bill.

"HEY, what the hell's wrong with everyone today? "

When Bill exited into the corridor there was no sign of Steve and he cursed his luck. He didn't fancy having to tell Mike that not only had he managed to NOT look after Steve but he had also managed to LOSE him in the process so he took off down the corridor determined to find him before he had to face his Lieutenant's wrath.

As he reached the end of the corridor and passed the restroom door he heard the tap running inside and wondered if that's where Steve had ended up. Not wanting to tip his hand if it was, he straightened himself up and calmed himself down before entering the restroom nonchalantly. As he came in and saw Steve washing his hands at the sink he had to refrain from sighing with relief as he caught Steve's eye in the mirror. Not wanting it to seem too obvious that he had been following the young man, he headed for the sink purposefully and turning on the tap he proceeded to throw cold water up at his face and then grabbing a paper towel to dry it with, he spoke.

"Man, is it just me Steve or is it very hot in the squadroom this evening? The air conditioning must be on the blink again, huh?"

Steve smiled and finished drying his hands.

"It always is. Besides it's was fairly hot outside today. Hey ... thanks for rescuing me from Norm back there."

Bill chuckled.

"You're welcome. Norm's harmless but he's sure full of energy today, isn't he?"

"Yeah ... well those reports won't type themselves. Better head back. See you back there."

Bill nodded and watched in the mirror as Steve left. The young man looked as white as a sheet. He didn't want to follow him back immediately so he hung back a moment or two, happy that Steve was heading back to finish his reports so that at least he knew where he was going. He wondered if the young man had been sick, when he considered the speed in which Steve had left the squadroom and especially knowing that he was under Doctor's orders to move slowly, but there was no give away odor to speak of in the empty restroom. He pushed open each cubicle door and as he pushed the last one open the small frosted window at the top was swinging wide open, the evening breeze blowing in strongly and his gut instinct told him that he had been right to wonder.

Much to Mike's annoyance, Olsen's meeting had dragged on relentlessly just as he thought it would. Unbeknownst to Mike, Olsen had changed the meeting to an interdepartmental one, so Mike had to sit tediously through every other Department's update before finally being able to deliver his own. He had spent most of the meeting in a trance thinking about what tomorrow would bring or checking his watch but thankfully nobody had seemed to notice and when it finally wrapped up, Mike stayed behind momentarily to request the following day off from Rudy. He didn't give a reason why and as he rarely asked for time off, Olsen agreed without argument or inquiry. Mike told Olsen that he would leave Bill Tanner in charge of keeping things running smoothly in his absence and then after the normal pleasantries were exchanged, Mike took his leave and hurried anxiously back down to the Homicide Department. As he got out of the elevator at the end of the corridor he saw Bill exiting the restroom and called him over.

"Bill. How were things while I was gone? "

Bill crossed over to where he was and smiled at Mike's question, knowing exactly the main "thing" he was referring to.

"Well he was fine for most of the time Mike, but in the last half hour I think he's showing signs of not feeling too good, not that he'd ever let on. "

"Don't I know it? " Mike joked but then turned serious again. "What kind of signs?"

"Well he was rubbing his temples and then Norm arrived and grabbed his shoulder unknowingly and seemed to cause him a bit of pain. I managed to distract Norm away from him but then he raced off to the mensroom. I followed him, but by the time I got here he was just washing his hands. Mike ... Look, I'm not sure about this but I ... well I think he might have been sick."

Mike's face fell at those words. He looked thoughtful for a few minutes. Bill could see that Mike was worried so he spoke again.

"Mike, I could be wrong. But he looked a little green around the gills when I saw him."

"Ok. Thanks Bill. Listen, I hope you don't mind but I'm taking tomorrow off and I've told Olsen I'm leaving you in charge to keep an eye on things for me. I hope that's ok with you?"

"Sure Mike, that's fine. I'll take care of things."

"I know you will. Listen can you do me just one more favor please?"

"Sure, what? "

Reaching into his pocket he took out his wallet and handed some notes to Bill.

"Head over to Tony's will you and pick up three or four pizzas for the squadroom. Everyone could use a bite to eat and Steve has hardly eaten all day, maybe that's why he's feeling sick. You know which pizzas the guys will eat. Oh and Bill, just make sure that whatever one you get for me and Steve has no anchovies on it, ok?"

Bill smiled.

"Ok, will do. No anchovies. Got it. Thanks Mike. I won't be long."

Mike watched Bill head into the elevator and then turned quickly to hurry back and check on Steve.

Steve had made his way back to the squadroom slower than he had left it. His stomach felt strangely better after its recent purge but his head was pounding and he felt a little weaker than he had before. As he came in through the squadroom door he was pleased to see that the other detectives all appeared to be taking phone calls and so didn't even look up when he entered. He made his way back to his desk and sat down.

Checking his notebook he saw that he still had roughly three or four pages left to type. He pulled his chair back to the typewriter and stared at the last line he had typed. As his headache pounded and the back of his head throbbed, the small typed words blurred and Steve blinked his eyes to try and clear his vision. It was no use. He needed pain relief and he couldn't wait for Mike to come back. It was taking too long.

He stared into Mike's office and tried to convince himself to go in and look through Mike's desk for some paracetamol. As he stood up, his pen rolled off the desk onto the floor and he bent down to get it. As he grabbed it off the floor, he stood back up too fast, forgetting for a split second that he wasn't supposed to do that and his surroundings started to spin alarmingly. The notice board in front of his desk seemed to take on a life of its own and was tilting back and forth and he felt himself falling backwards. Steve made a grab for his desk to stop his fall but missed it. He put his hand behind him to grab for his chair instead but the casters on it meant that as he made a grab for it, it wheeled backwards and much to Steve's horror he landed on his rear end on the floor, the bump on his head hitting the chair as he landed. As his head protested the new knock and the pain increased, Steve looked up as the fluorescent lights on the ceiling faded in and out and he heard a commotion around him and several shouts of his name.


	8. Chapter 8

**Gone But Not Forgotten  
**

 **A/N: Heartfelt thanks for the kind reviews of my last few chapters and to all those still taking the time to read and follow this story... :-D**

Chapter 8

Mike arrived back through the outer squadroom door just in time to see Steve's frightening descent. For the second time that day his heart almost skipped a beat as once again he wasn't close enough to be in a position to stop him from falling. He watched helplessly as Steve had grabbed for the chair and almost felt the pain himself as he saw the young man hit the floor and saw his already sore head collide with the chair.

"STEVE!" Mike yelled, as he raced through the inner door and watched as the rest of the guys left their desks to rush forward to join him.

Mike heard other shouts of his partner's name but he was the first one to arrive at his side. Mike found Steve still in a half sitting position as the pillar behind Steve's desk stopped the chair from travelling further and left the young man in a seated heap between it and his desk. He crouched behind Steve, pushing Steve's chair out of the way and supporting Steve's upper body. As the chair was removed, Steve's head fell back and Mike saw his eyes glazed and unfocused. Fearing that he was in danger of passing out again, Mike gently cradled his head on his right arm and lightly patted his cheek with his left hand, speaking quite firmly as he did.

"STEVE! Stay with me now. Do you hear me? Look at me."

Steve's eyes fluttered and he was trying to do as he was asked but the dizziness kept dragging him back so that to Mike's added horror, his eyes almost rolled back in their sockets alarmingly at one point. As Mike's attempts to rouse his partner failed, in true Mike Stone style he took charge of the crisis. Pulling his clean handkerchief from his pocket he started barking instructions.

"Harris. Wet that from the water cooler for me please? Norm open the window in my office and get the fan off that table over in the corner, set it up in my office and turn it on. Art, head down to the canteen and find me an ice pack we can use. "

Mike's concise and clear orders were all the other men needed and within seconds all three men had gone to carry them out. Mike then returned his attention back to his fallen partner and continued to try and talk him around. Harris arrived back with the dampened, cooled handkerchief and Mike started dabbing it on Steve's brow, face and neck, opening the next shirt button down and loosening the material further as he did. The cold compress helped and Steve's eyes gradually regained their focus.

The first sight he saw again clearly was his partner's face, followed by Norm's. Haseejian had returned from Mike's office having done what was required of him and was now peering down at him from behind Mike. Standing off to the right a bit was Harris.

"Holy Moly, what happened kid?" Norm's voice chimed in.

As what happened came back to him, the embarrassment of the situation meant that his first instinct was to get up quickly but Mike was as usual one step ahead and was keeping him firmly pinned where he was.

"Ah, ah! Don't you dare try to move yet. You lie still for a few minutes and then we'll get you up. Ok?"

"Mike ... I'm ok ... let me up please?" Steve pleaded but knew the weak voice that accompanied it was enough to make his plea useless.

"No Steve. Now what happened?"

"Dropped my pen ... that's all ... forgot not to ... get back up ... so fast ..."

Mike scowled and stared briefly at the offending pen that was back on the floor after Steve's spectacular fall as if it had been all the inanimate object's fault. Then he asked more probing questions much to Steve's chagrin.

"Have you hurt anywhere else this time?"

"No ... just my pride ... but I ... may have banged my head again ... a little."

"A little huh? Does a little cause enough damage to almost send you out cold again? Well does it?"

"I didn't go out cold Mike. I was just ... dizzy ..." he muttered, knowing at the same time that his pathetic defences were pointless to Mike's keen eye.

"Oh, just dizzy, that's all huh? So that's why I was getting acquainted with the back of your eyeballs, is it?"

That sentence stopped Steve's defence flat and he closed his eyes and stopped making excuses, knowing that to continue his line of nothing much happened when it clearly had, would only dig a bigger hole for himself. Besides, his head was killing him and every sound around him felt like it was amplified and was causing his head to threaten to explode. He winced visibly and Mike spotted his discomfort.

"Is your headache back?"

Steve didn't answer at first, his closed eyelids and not having to speak providing a miniscule amount of relief from the overwhelming pain. Mike felt worry grip his heart at Steve's silence but at the same time he felt it effectively answered his former question. Phones started ringing again in the background and Harris volunteered to go and deal with them much to Steve's relief of having one less spectator to his current misery. Mike saw Steve wince again and speaking quietly he asked what he felt was the next most important question.

"Steve? Are you due pain killers?"

Steve merely nodded very slowly and then opened his eyes and looked sheepishly at Mike knowing that his next confession was not going to be received well by his partner but hoping that under the current circumstances Mike would go easy on him.

"I was due them a while ago ... but ... I didn't have any paracetamol in my desk."

He looked down, his cheeks reddening slightly as he saw Mike's steely glare.

"Steve, you know I have some in my desk. Why didn't you just go in there and get some?"

Again Steve looked flustered.

"I ... I didn't like to so I ... thought I'd just wait until you ... came back."

"Steve? What on earth am I going to do with you? " he said crossly and Steve winced once more and looked away disheartened.

Mike regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth and he saw Steve's reaction to them but before he could say anything else, Sekulovich burst back through the inner squadroom door with an ice pack in his hand and headed purposefully back towards them.

"Here you go Mike."

"Thanks Art." he said accepting the ice pack and trying to work out what their next move should be, but before he could, Norm let out a shout that frightened them all.

"MIKE, there's blood on your arm. He must be bleeding! "

Sure enough as Mike looked down where Steve's head was lying against his arm there was a trail of blood that was trickling from his arm onto the floor. It wasn't an alarming amount but needed to be seen to all the same. Steve looked alarmed at the mention of blood as his biggest fear loomed large of being whisked back to the place he had only recently been lucky enough to escape from. However the new development spurred Mike into action again and despite his throbbing, pounding headache Steve couldn't help but admire how well Mike always kept his head in a crisis.

"Norm help me get him up and into my office but take him slowly. I don't want anymore dizzy spells. Got It?"

"Sure Boss ."

"Art, get the first aid box please?"

"Sure Mike ... " Art replied, racing off to get it from the press where it was kept.

Norm and Mike took an arm each, Mike making sure he took Steve's left arm to guard his injured shoulder and between them they easily lifted the light young man up off the floor. They moved extra carefully and slowly and as they half carried him, Mike noticed the collar of Steve's shirt was soaked with fresh blood too. The back of his hair where the bump was had blood on it too and Mike feared that where it had been swollen had split somehow with the second blow it got. They sat him down in front of Mike's desk and Mike was even more concerned by how shaky Steve appeared to be.

"Steve lean forward and lie your right arm on my desk and put your head down on it so I can see how badly you're cut, will you?"

"Are you going to touch it?"

"Steve I have to touch it to assess it unless you'd rather have Dr. Lopez touch it and assess it down in the ER again?"

Mike knew that statement would have the desired effect and albeit reluctantly, Steve did as he was told and laid his head down on his arm. Art returned and placing the first aid box on Mike's desk and opening it, he handed a pair of disposable gloves to Mike who proceeded to put them on, one at a time. Despite the seriousness of the current situation Norm couldn't help himself and thinking that perhaps some humor would alleviate the palpable tension in Mike's office he started to chuckle.

"You know when my Doctor puts those on it's time to run, you know what I mean?"

Mike shot a steely glare in Norm's direction and he quietened straight away. Then reaching over he started probing the area around the bump, and pushing Steve's hair aside to fully see what was happening. Steve yelped and grouched at Mike's ministrations.

"OW! "

"I'm sorry buddy boy but you are going to have to STOP squirming. It's bad enough trying to see through all this hair of yours."

Again Steve grouched.

"What are you talking about all my hair? You'd think I was a beatnik or something."

"Will you relax. I wasn't being critical. I'm just saying it's hard to see the cut that's all, under those wavy locks of yours. Art, get that desk lamp over here will you so I can see better please?"

Art brought the lamp and switched it on and aimed it at the back of Steve's head so that Mike got a better look at it. There was a small tear just on the bump, that was bleeding quite steadily but the cut itself didn't appear to be deep, mostly superficial.

"Uh oh, yep, there it is. Just like I thought." Mike murmured, grabbing a sterile dressing and placing it over the bloodied cut.

Steve bit back another yelp and frowned. He also panicked a little, not liking the level of angst he had heard in Mike's voice. The pain of his headache was starting to make him feel sick again and the added pain caused by Mike's current probing wasn't helping matters.

"What do you mean uh, oh. How bad is it? "

Norm leaned in, looked and grimaced at the cut.

"Ooh that looks nasty. Do you want me to call the paramedics Mike?" he asked out of concern.

Mike felt Steve tense and quickly dismissed Norm's suggestion.

"No Norm, I don't think that will be necessary. "

As he said the words, he almost felt the wave of relief that washed over his partner and then answered Steve's earlier question.

"Steve, when you hit your head just now it tore the skin very slightly where the skin was swollen over the bump but it looks just like a superficial cut to me. I don't think it needs stitches. We just need to clean it and get a dressing on it to stop the bleeding.

"Thank God ... " Mike heard Steve mumbling under his breath.

"Mind all those brains of his don't escape." Norm chimed in again smiling and was once more shot down with a Stone glare.

"NORM! That is NOT helping."

Norm's smile faded and he looked suitably chastised. Turning his annoyance from Norm he looked back at Sekulovich.

"Art? You did a first aid course just last month didn't you?" Mike asked

Sekulovich nodded.

"Come around this side and take a look at this for me will you? I need a second opinion."

Much to Steve's despair, he saw Art move behind him to view the cut.

"What are you going to do next, sell tickets?" Steve asked grumbling, the incessant, unyielding pain causing him to be overly narky.

Norm let another chuckle at Steve's words and then tried to disguise it by clearing his throat before Mike could glare a third time. Knowing how badly Steve was handling the situation, Mike chose to ignore the sarcastic remark for now and lifting the dressing for Art to examine, he waited for Art to respond anxiously.

"Yeah, it looks superficial to me too Mike but scalp wounds can bleed alot so you're going to need to press that dressing on that for about fifteen minutes until it stops. "

"Fifteen minutes? "Steve repeated, horrified that he would have to put up with Mike pressing on the sorest part of his head for that long.

"Ok, ok now. It won't be that bad. But we had better clean it first. "

Mike reached for the antiseptic and immediately Steve grabbed Mike's hand.

"Whoa, whoa wait. Wait ... I ... I need those painkillers first. Please ... My heads pounding Mike. "

Mike placed a reassuring hand on Steve's right shoulder having forgotten the fact that the young man needed pain relief in his urgency to attend to the bloody cut. Quickly then, he righted his mistake. Leaving Art to hold the dressing onto Steve's cut, Mike hurried to his desk and got two paracetamol and on the top of his filing cabinet he reached up and poured a glass of water. Then Art allowed Steve to get up for a few moments while Mike handed him his pills and the water. Steve took the glass in a very shaky hand and swallowed the two pills and Mike studied him as he did. The boy looked dreadful. He was ghostly pale and looked exhausted to the point where his eyes actually looked red and sore. The last two hours of typing seemed even more now like it had been a very bad idea and one Mike never should have agreed to.

"Ok? ... " he asked and then wondered why he did, as the answer was blatantly obvious that he wasn't and Mike reasoned that he just needed to hear a reassuring answer whether it was truthful or not.

But to Mike's added worry Steve didn't respond with his usual "I'm fine" answer but instead mumbled a shaky "thanks" and then quickly dropped his head back on his arm to await the renewed torture. Mike swallowed hard and glanced apprehensively at Art who looked equally as concerned and then he took Art's place again and only poured a minimum amount of the antiseptic onto the gauze and started wiping the oozing cut. Steve jumped where he lay and as Art placed a hand on Steve's back to keep him still, Mike saw he had his eyes screwed tight against the new stinging that had to be assaulting him as Mike worked as quickly as he could. With the wound cleaned Mike held another sterile dressing over the cut and held it there as firmly as his conscience would allow, checking his wall clock for when the fifteen minutes began. He felt Steve's tension ease up slightly and assumed the stinging had eased and then hoped that the pain killers would kick in quickly for him.

That fifteen minutes felt an hour and Steve remained silent and with his eyes closed for the whole time. The only indication that it was hurting him was the slight tremble that Mike and Art, the only ones in contact with him could feel. Norm had gone off to help Harris deal with the incessant phone calls and so Art and Mike were the only ones attending to Steve. Getting concerned by his continuing silence as the minutes ticked by, Mike leaned forward and spoke firmly.

"Steve? Are you still awake?"

Thankfully a half mumbled response was quick in coming.

"Yeah ... Just resting ... "

"... Your eyes, I know." Mike finished for the young man, relieved by some form of response and smiling at Steve's consistent come back today.

The fifteen minutes ended and Mike lifted the dressing carefully. The blood had congealed and had stopped escaping so Mike placed another dressing over the first one and reached for the roll of gauze. Steve's eyes opened and saw what he reached for and protested.

"Oh no Mike, you're not going to wrap my head up like a mummy. That would definitely cause me to lose the last shred of dignity I have left. Come on Mike, you know what the guys are like, especially Norm. He'd be calling me King Tut for the next month. PLEASE."

"Steve, the medical tape won't stick to your hair. The bandage is the only thing that will keep it secured. Be reasonable will you? And don't worry about Norm, you leave him to me. Besides, it's only for a little while until we know it's not going to bleed again. I'll just put a simple one on ok? I promise."

Steve groaned in defeat as Mike allowed him to sit up slowly back in the chair and as he got Art to hold the dressing in place, he wrapped the gauze around the young man's head just above both ears and secured it at the back. Art then patted Steve's right shoulder reassuringly as he heard the phone ringing on his own desk and returned to answer it.

"Thanks Art. " Steve called after him.

"How's the headache?" Mike asked as he tidied up the medical supplies and then sat on the corner of his desk in front of where his partner was sitting. Reaching out he placed the ice pack from earlier on the back of Steve's head and brought the young man's hand up to hold it there, hoping the numbing cold might ease the pain a little too.

" It's a little easier ... " he replied rubbing at his eyes and his temple with his free hand as if that would magically dispel the remaining discomfort.

"Good, well they should kick in better soon. "

Then shaking his head as he thought of how worse things could have turned out, Mike added with frustration in his voice.

"I should never have gone to that infernal meeting!"

Steve looked up and smiled for the first time since Mike had left the office to go to his meeting earlier.

"No, it was ok ... " Then as a mischievous look crossed his face he added " Bill did a good job."

Mike's head whipped up and he looked curiously at Steve, feigning innocence.

"What are you talking about?"

This made Steve laugh but he regretted the move as his head still hurt so he chuckled a little more reservedly.

"Come on Mike, you don't really believe you fooled me with that little file trick of yours earlier, do you? I know you asked him to keep an eye on me. Besides, he was watching me almost as closely as you do all afternoon."

Mike laughed and shook his head admiringly at Steve's perception.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No ... But next time it would help with the charade if the file was the right way up!"

Mike's face fell as he hadn't even noticed and then he chuckled at the stupidity of his own mistake.

"Are you cross with me?"

"No ... Actually I didn't mind and anyway he did save me from Norm, well ... almost."

"Still maybe I should reconsider him for undercover work in the future, huh?"

"No, he did pretty good actually. Very stealthy and covert."

The two men chuckled again and Mike thought he saw a slight improvement in Steve's demeanor.

At the mention of his name in their conversation, Norm poked his head around the door.

"Well if it isn't the Egyptian Prince come to pay us mere mortals a visit. " he joked as Steve groaned and shot an "I told you so " look at his partner. "How are you feeling kid? You know you never told us what caused that bump in the first place. You get clobbered in the line of duty?" he said playfully nudging Steve in the back.

Steve looked despairingly up at Mike and was about to answer ashamedly before Mike interrupted him. Moving off the desk towards his Sergeant he placed a friendly hand around his shoulders as he spoke animatedly.

"You didn't hear?"

Norm looked confused and so did Steve temporarily.

"Hear what?"

"Why if you think Steve is bad you should see the three guys who jumped him. They came off a lot worse than he did I can tell you. Why he wiped the floor with the three of them, despite being injured. We had to get them seen by the paramedics before we brought them back to Holding. I'm surprised you didn't hear? Why he's the talk of the building."

Steve's jaw dropped as he listened to Mike's story and was about to say something but as Mike walked Norm out of his office he placed his left hand on Steve's right shoulder to silence him.

"WOW! The kid really took on three perps and won? "

"Sure ... I saw it with my own eyes from where the others were holding me down."

Norm looked even more stunned as Mike heard a very faint stifled laugh come from Steve behind him.

"He rescued you too?"

"Well I'm here aren't I? " Then lowering his voice he whispered "But don't say too much about it, ok? The kid's modest about it, you know how he is?"

"Sure, sure ... Wow, I didn't think he had it in him ... " Norm muttered incredulously as he headed back out towards his desk. As he left Mike closed his office door and returned to where Steve was now effectively holding his head to stop it hurting as he tried his best not to convulse laughing.

"Mike ... That was cruel. He's going to be ... hopping mad when he finds out ... you were messing with his head ... " Steve got out between pain filled giggles.

"Well it stopped him calling you King Tut didn't it? And besides, it will do him good to be on the receiving end of a prank for a change. If he can't take it, he shouldn't always dish it out, as my old man used to say." Mike answered smiling. "Is the pain easing any?"

"Yeah, the headache's better than it was ... but the back of my head is hurting like hell. I had to hit that part didn't I? What is it with this day? I think maybe I should have stayed in bed today." Steve grumbled but Mike could tell he had improved dramatically from the time they had picked him up off the floor.

Just then Mike looked out his office door and smiled. Getting up he clapped his hands together cheerfully causing Steve to wince again at the loud clap near his ear.

"Ah here's Bill with dinner! This will cheer you up buddy boy." he announced happily as he headed out to meet Bill with the food.

Steve moved very carefully around and looked out at where Bill was standing and the sight of Tony's pizza boxes made his stomach churn again. Rubbing his free hand over his face he muttered quietly under his breath.

"Hurry, hurry, Tony's pizza. Get them while they're cold and soggy ... Ugh!"

Not that his appetite had been good to start with but seeing what his dinner was now going to consist of, it disappeared entirely. He didn't want to appear ungrateful and knew for some strange incomprehensible reason that Mike LOVED Tony's pizzas so he knew he was going to have to try at least one slice to keep the older man happy but his stomach was not looking forward to the prospect. As he watched Mike ecstatically doling out pizza slices to the other guys who seemed overjoyed and grateful that Mike had bought them for them, he watched Norm and his atrocious table manners as he tucked in messily to a soggy, looking slice of pizza and he felt his stomach somersault and he just prayed that there were no anchovies to have to contend with as well.


	9. Chapter 9

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

Chapter 9

Steve watched as Mike finished handing out food and napkins to the guys, then took up the final pizza box and headed purposefully back towards him. He watched as he entered the office and passing Steve, the aroma of the pizza reached Steve's nose and he felt his stomach churn.

"Now buddy boy, this will make you feel better. It will be just what the Doctor ordered." he said gleefully as he placed it down on his desk and opened it with a flourish, rubbing his hands together in readiness.

The sight of the stilted, unappetizing looking pizza had an overwhelming effect on Steve's poor stomach but he tried his best not to let it show. He did acknowledge the fact that Mike had for once made sure there were no anchovies on it and for that fact alone Steve was extremely grateful. Mike shook two napkins and placed one either side of his desk. Steve looked away unable to even look at it, let alone eat it as he struggled to cope with the pizza aroma that was now strongly filling the office.

Mike hadn't noticed Steve's discomfort up to this point as he had reveled in the arrival of dinner. The long drawn out meeting up in Olsen's office meant that unlike Steve, Mike was ravenous and looking forward to his pizza. As he sat down and reached into the pizza box to dole out a slice each, he saw Steve looking away and it sent alarm bells ringing in his head.

"Steve, don't you feel like some?"

Steve was swallowing hard and trying to answer.

"No, I'm not really feeling very hungry Mike."

"Steve, you've hardly eaten at all today. Starving yourself isn't going to help that dizziness any, now is it? Besides it's always better to have something in your stomach when you're taking pain medication, you know that."

Steve could feel the nausea returning and needed to get away from the smell of the pizza. He decided to stall for a bit in the hope that he could maybe get his nausea under control enough to allow him one small piece to keep Mike happy. Getting up very gingerly, he dropped the ice pack back down onto Mike's desk, righted himself and spoke as normally as he could, feeling as nauseous as he was.

"I just want to go clean up a bit before having some."

Steve's very unsteady ascent from the chair made Mike jump up and come around beside him.

"Hey, easy now. I'll come with you."

"NO! "Steve protested a little too vehemently unsure what a trip back to the restroom was going to produce and definitely NOT wanting Mike to witness whatever it did. Then lowering his tone he continued.

"No, I'm ok now. I can manage a trip to the restroom and back Mike. Honest, I'll go slowly and I'll be right back. "

Mike opened his mouth to protest but Steve stopped him.

"Mike, please. Would you just allow me a little dignity in front of the guys. I don't have a lot left after today" he pleaded and Mike slowly and reluctantly retreated back to his chair.

"Are you sure you'll manage ok?" Mike asked, feeling that something was very wrong with Steve, something that he wasn't letting on to as usual.

"Yeah, I'm sure, but if it makes you feel better, if I'm not back in fifteen minutes you can form a search party, ok?"

Mike chuckled despite his growing unease and flung a napkin playfully at the young man.

"Ok, wise guy. But don't be long or I might have to send Norm after you." he threatened teasingly.

Steve forced a smile and turned and slowly made his way out of Mike's office, past the others and out of the squadroom, feeling five pairs of eyes burning into his back as he went. He didn't dare look back as he knew that one more view of Norm sloppily devouring his pizza and talking with his mouth full would be enough to cause another imminent purge so he focused instead on just getting outside into the corridor. As he reached it he couldn't hold back the sigh of relief as the smell of Tony's finest dissipated and he breathed the aroma free air in the corridor.

Once again he reached the restroom by holding the wall as he went and on entering the confines of the restroom he was even more glad of the fresh air that was free flowing in the open window he had opened earlier. His headache was a lot better but looking in the mirror he saw his newly bandaged head and his almost sunken eyes and almost gasped at how atrocious he looked. Normally so well groomed and proud of the fact he looked dreadful and he also knew in this instance a comb was not going to fix things. Being out of the squadroom and away from the smell of food and with fresh air now filling his lungs, the nausea passed, much to his relief and he turned on the cold tap and scooped cold water over his face. Then drying his face with a paper towel, he rebuttoned his shirt and fixed himself as best he could and frowned as he looked sideways and saw the blood stains on his collar and on the shoulder of his favorite shirt. Finally deciding, that was as good as he was going to be able to look under the circumstances, he washed and dried his hands and left the restroom but that's where his footsteps stopped.

He stood outside willing his legs to return to Mike but the memory of the soggy pizza and the smell that was still too fresh in his mind prevented him. He felt guilty and upset but he knew he just couldn't stomach returning there so instead he headed in the opposite direction towards the elevator, pushing the button frantically while keeping a close eye on the Homicide Department door. The elevator doors opened and he got in and pushed the ground floor button and sighed heavily as the doors closed and it started going down.

He didn't even know where he was going and reaching up he pulled the bandage off his head for fear of being asked too many questions should anyone join him in the elevator on the way down. Pushing the offending article into his trouser pocket and pulling the dressings gently off the back of his head and wincing as he did, he pocketed them too and reaching his hand up to gently touch the bump, he was pleased when he took his hand back down to look at it and saw no fresh blood. His worst fears were realized however as the doors opened on the first floor and Lenny Murchison, the Department Psychologist was standing there in front of him. Quickly, Steve reached his left hand up to his left shoulder near the neck to cover the bloodstains on his shirt and smiled his best smile at Lenny as he got into the elevator beside him.

"Evening Steve. Man, you look rough? Long day?"

"Hey Lenny, yeah ... you could say that."

"Wanna talk about it?" Lenny joked being the one in the Department who listened for a living but Steve seemed to just feign a chuckle and answered back distractedly.

"No, I'm good thanks ..."

Steve's stilted laugh and answer only made Lenny study the young man more closely. He was holding his shoulder and neck in a strange manner and seemed very uncomfortable in Lenny's presence.

"You hurt your neck?"

"What?" Steve asked wishing the elevator would move quicker.

"Your neck? You're holding it. Did you hurt it?"

Without removing his hand, he answered awkwardly.

"Oh this, no, it's just stiff. I spent all afternoon typing."

"Oh ... I see." Lenny answered, his eyes never leaving Steve's side profile and he could feel the nervousness emanating from him and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Where's Mike? You two normally travel in a pair." Lenny said again lightheartedly but with purpose.

"He's up in his office. I'm ... just running an errand. "

Beads of perspiration were starting to break out on his brow. He had wanted to get out at ground level and go outside for a walk and the lit up elevator button reflected that choice but he couldn't afford to get out before Lenny, as he would see the congealed blood on the back of his head and cause a further scene so he found himself desperately trying to figure out his next move. As the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors opened Lenny went to exit but then beckoned for the young man to go first, much to Steve's horror, so Steve quickly pressed the underground parking level button instead and spoke shakily.

"Oh, you go ahead. I ... I just forgot I ... ah, I have to get something from the car first. See you later."

Lenny exited much to Steve's relief but as the doors went to close, Lenny opened them again.

"Steve ... are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. But I've really got to go. Can't keep Mike waiting, now can I? Em ... do you mind?" he asked referring to Lenny's foot which was preventing the doors from closing.

"Oh sure, sorry. See you Steve. " Lenny said removing his foot and saw Steve nodding his gratitude as the doors finally closed.

He watched as the elevator display went down to the parking level and stayed there. Something wasn't right. Lenny crossed the lobby and approached the front desk.

"Evening Mr. Murchison. On your way home?" the elderly gentleman at the desk asked politely.

"Almost Jim, I just have a quick phone call to make first. May I use your phone for a minute please?"

"Sure, be my guest. You know it's looking a little overcast out there now. Forecast says we may be in for thundery downpours tonight. I sure hope they're wrong though."

Lenny smiled at the other man and picking up the phone and turning it around to face him he dialled the number and while he waited for it to answer he looked out the front doors at the ever greying, foreboding looking sky.

Upstairs, Mike had devoured three slices of pizza and as the fifteen minutes ticked by he was getting increasingly apprehensive at Steve's failure to return. He started to regret not insisting that he go with him and finally as the fifteen minutes passed, he jumped up and hurried out of the squadroom and down towards the restroom. Pushing open the door, he spoke.

"Steve? Are you alright? The search party has arrived. You know I was seriously considering sending Norm ..."

Mike stopped speaking as he was greeted with silence. The restroom was empty, all four cubicles wide open and vacant. Mike panicked and exited the restroom in a sprint, banging the door closed behind him in frustration.

"Damn it Steve, where have you headed off to now?"

He stood in the corridor unsure of where to go first in his search. Perhaps he had gone to his locker for a change of shirt. Yes, he prayed that was the answer and he raced to the elevator hitting the button numerous times in a frantic fashion. Before it arrived Haseejian's voice boomed down the corridor at him.

"Hey Mike. Murchison's on the phone for you."

Too concerned about finding his partner, he frowned at whatever Lenny could possibly need to speak to him about.

"Norm, tell him I'll call him back."

"Eh Mike, you might want to take it. He said it's about Steve."

Mike stopped where he stood as the elevator doors opened in front of him. Wheeling around he headed back towards the squadroom door, his heart in his mouth as he worried about what could have possibly happened now. Norm jumped to one side as Mike dashed in past him and headed to his office. He reached impatiently for the receiver that was lying off the hook on his desk and placed it up to his ear, his breath ragged and his fingers trembling.

"Lenny, it's Mike. What's the matter? ... Oh you did huh? Where was he heading? No, he wasn't on an errand. It's a long story. I'll have to tell you another time. I have to go find him. Lenny how did he look? "

As he listened to the description Lenny gave, he scowled angrily.

"So he didn't have a bandage on his head? ... Ok, I see. No, Lenny you were right to call. Thanks. No, you go on home. I'll take care of it. But I appreciate the call. Ok, bye."

Mike slammed the receiver back on the hook and saw the other guys outside all jump at the sound and look in his direction. They saw Mike get his coat and hat and then coming outside he grabbed Steve's jacket off the back of his chair. Bill headed over towards the older man.

"Mike, what's going on?"

"He's only gone and bailed on me that's what. No jacket, no nothing AND he's taken the bandage off. IF I can find him, I'm going to take him home with me. If Olsen calls, tell him I'll see him the day after tomorrow. I'll see you guys then too." Mike said moving purposefully towards the door.

Bill followed him and reached him as his hand alighted on the door handle.

"Wait Mike, do you want us to help you look for him?"

Mike stopped and glanced around at Bill and the other three men who were now standing up and waiting for further instructions. He smiled gratefully at them.

"No, that's alright Bill. I appreciate the offer boys but I think I know where he'll be. Just keep the place running smoothly for me so that I can concentrate on Steve. That will be help enough. "

"Something's going on with him more that a bump on the head isn't it Mike?" Bill asked with worry in his voice and Mike placed a reassuring hand on his colleague's shoulder.

"Yes, but don't worry. I have a handle on it. That is if I can FIND him. You know I swear that boy will be the death of me. When I get my hands on him ... "

"... you'll make sure he's looked after. " Bill added and made Mike smile.

"Good luck Mike and don't worry. I'll take care of things here. Go and help him ok?"

Mike squeezed his colleague's shoulder gratefully and nodded.

"Hey Mike! ... " Norm called and when Mike looked at him he blushed and spoke sheepishly.

"If Steve's not eating his half of the pizza ... well that is to say ... "

Mike smiled at Norm's awkward sounding request.

"Sure Norm ... Help yourself."

With that Mike turned and quickly exited Homicide. The other men looked incredulously at Norm as he thought of his stomach again.

"What? I'm hungry." he defended and as they all returned to their desks, their thoughts were on Steve as they hoped he would be ok, just as the phones started ringing again and work continued as normal.

Steve had taken the elevator down to the underneath parking garage and stepped out as the doors opened. He hadn't intended coming here and suddenly realized how chilly it had gotten as he cursed not having taken his jacket with him. He stood shivering a little and began questioning his motives for coming here and not just returning to Mike. He glanced at his watch and saw that fifteen minutes had passed now since he had left the office and wondered if Mike had been serious about sending Norm to find him and became increasingly anxious about how that scenario would play out. He wasn't sure what he should do next. He had no jacket, no wallet, no car keys ... No HOUSE keys! Damn it!"

He punched the closed elevator doors in frustration and regretted it as the knuckles on his right hand stung and throbbed. _What had he been thinking?_ And then he sighed as he realized that he hadn't been thinking at all. He had just acted on his gut instinct to escape but hadn't thought about anything else. Should he just go back up to Mike and face the music or should he try walking home and hope that his neighbour Anderson upstairs would be home to give him his spare key? He didn't fancy facing Mike after breaking his promise to return and he knew walking home would take far too long and that he didn't have the energy to walk that far, so instead he ambled slowly towards the car they had vacated earlier. He hoped that maybe Mike had forgotten to lock it and that at least he could sit into it and decide what to do next somewhere warmer and more private.

As he reached it, he saw it was locked and he felt the frustration and upset wash over him. He leaned against the passenger door and slid down it until he was sitting on the concrete ground. He rubbed at the reddened, recently banged knuckles on his right hand trying to make the stinging go away. Then giving up hope of that, with his knees bent he put his head in his hands as he felt the upset surface. He sat there unmoving, breathing heavily as the pervading smell of gasoline and exhaust fumes clung thick in the air. The screeching of tires in the distance set his already frayed nerves on edge and then the ping of the elevator doors opening made him freeze where he was.

He stayed as quiet as he could as he heard footsteps exit the elevator and yet they stopped briefly. He wondered if it was Norm and quickly tried to think of a cover story that would explain his peculiar presence on the garage floor. But his tired brain couldn't think of a suitable excuse so he resigned himself to his fate and to the last shred of his dignity being stripped away and to the endless ridicule and garage jokes that would be inflicted on him for weeks to come. He crossed his arms on his knees and buried his head between them as he waited for the approaching footsteps and Norm's derisive laugh to follow.

The footsteps resumed and he heard them coming closer. He held his breath and hoped he would remain undiscovered but somewhere to his right, he heard the footsteps stop close to him. He didn't look up but waited for the laugh or the booming voice but instead a gentle hand touched his shoulder and a familiar gentle voice reached his ears.

"Couldn't face the pizza, huh?"

He slowly raised his face and glanced furtively sideways and saw Mike on his haunches leaning towards him.

He merely nodded ashamedly and mouthed the word " _Sorry "_.

Mike looked more concerned than mad and added unexpectedly.

"Don't be. Say, is there room down there for me too?"

Steve looked surprised and nodded as Mike sat down next to him awkwardly, his bones creaking and protesting his new position. As he sat shoulder to shoulder with Steve and finally settled, he chuckled.

"You know I remember a time when this position would have been a lot easier to get into."

He was pleased to see that his remark at least raised a small grin from the tormented looking young man beside him.

"It's a bit cold down here." Steve warned, shivering a little " I ... I don't suppose you brought my jacket with you, did you?" Steve asked hopefully.

Mike rubbed his hands together in sympathy against the cold and then reaching beside him he produced Steve's jacket smiling.

"You mean this one? Here lean forward" he instructed and saw Steve looking gratefully at him as he wrapped it around his partner's shoulders and saw Steve pull it around himself in an effort to warm himself up.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Mike continued cautiously.

"So, you wanna tell me why you ... bailed out on me?"

Steve looked remorseful and sad and took a while to answer.

"I don't know why ... exactly. But it wasn't you ... I ... well I didn't even know where I was heading ... Stupid huh? How did you know where to find me?"

Mike looked sympathetically at his young partner.

"Lenny called. He said he saw you in the elevator acting suspiciously and that you were headed down here."

"Lenny ratted me out, huh?" Steve said at least now understanding how Mike had found him so quickly. "I figured he wasn't buying my _"I'm on an errand "_ speech."

Mike heard Steve's disheartening tone and quickly added.

"Don't be mad at Lenny. I'm glad he did call me. I have to admit I don't think I would have looked down here otherwise. Can I ... well can I ask you something buddy boy?"

Steve looked worried.

"I guess ..."

"Were you sick in the restroom?"

Steve pulled back a little sideways and looked strangely at Mike.

"What? Just now? No, I WASN'T. I just cleaned up like I said I was going to ... that's all."

Mike's face remained serious and unnerved Steve a little.

"I wasn't talking about just now. I meant earlier, before you dropped your pen and collapsed, when Bill followed you to the restroom."

Steve visibly shook and he spoke with an equal amount of discomfort.

"Did Bill say I was?"

"He wasn't sure. If you were, you must have disguised it well but ... well he had a hunch that you were. Well? And before you answer, there's no valid reason for you to lie to me, you know that don't you?"

Steve nodded and looked down at his knees briefly. Then speaking barely audibly he answered.

"Yeah ... yeah I was. "

"I see. Why weren't you going to tell me Steve? Were you afraid I would make you go back to the ER? Is that it?"

"I don't know ... maybe. It just happened. But then I felt better after it so I didn't think there was any point in saying anything about it until ... "

"... until Bill arrived with the pizzas I asked him to get, right? I mean I know Tony's pizzas aren't your favorite but you normally manage a slice or two. What happened?"

Steve looked sheepishly back at Mike.

"When I saw the pizza and the smell of them filled the office it just ... "

"... made you feel sick again?"

Steve nodded.

"Steve you should have just told me. I would have understood you know?"

"I know ... But I didn't want to seem ungrateful and I thought if I just got out of there for a while that I might be able to go back and make myself eat some but ... I just couldn't face it ... And besides I ... "

Steve didn't finish his sentence and so Mike coaxed him.

"And you what Steve? Come on spit it out. "

"And I didn't want to look stupid again, ok? I mean I think I've done enough embarrassing and stupid things for one day, don't you?"

Mike again looked sympathetic but then smiled and saw an opportunity to raise a smile.

"I see, so you ... came and sat in the parking lot instead huh?"

Steve looked at Mike and couldn't help but smile at the irony of Mike's observation.

"Ok I admit ... it wasn't my best ever decision."

Both men started to chuckle and then Mike slapped his knee purposefully.

"Come on, let's get off this damn cold ground and go to your place and get you an overnight bag before anyone sees us down here like this. If we're lucky we might even catch the end of the ball game on the tv when we get back to De Haro Street. What do you say?"

Steve felt a little better and warmer thanks to Mike bringing his jacket. But before he agreed he turned and looked anxiously at Mike for a brief moment, causing Mike to wonder what was causing his angst.

"You didn't bring the rest of the pizza with you too, did you?"

Mike laughed out loud and shook his head as he laughed.

"No buddy boy. You're safe. I left the remains of Tony's pizza in Norm's capable hands and by now it's more than likely already in his more than capable stomach. Ok? And I promise I won't make you eat anything you don't feel up to eating, alright? Will that make you feel better?"

Steve laughed and nodded and started to get up carefully. Slowly, getting to his feet he looked down and wondered why Mike wasn't following suit. As he looked down at the older man he saw Mike frowning and then heard him speaking quietly.

"I might have got down here easily enough buddy boy but you're going to have to help me get back up I'm afraid. "

Steve chuckled and reached down and pulled Mike up to his feet. As Steve had gripped Mike's hands Mike noticed the newly grazed knuckles and scowled.

"I don't suppose I want to know what happened to those do I?"

Steve blushed redder and shook his head carefully.

"No, probably not."

As Mike stood and shook the cramp out of his legs he pleaded with his partner.

"Do me a favour will you Steve? "

"Sure what?"

"The next time you feel like going off by yourself, pick a more comfortable spot will you please? Preferably one with my dodgy knees in mind."

Steve laughed again.

"Ok ... I'll do my best."

Mike pulled the car key out of his pocket and went around to the driver's side and opened the car. Steve put his jacket on properly, pulling it gingerly over his sore shoulder and as they both sat in, Mike looked sideways at his worn out looking partner and paused briefly before starting the engine. As Steve wondered what he was looking at, he didn't have to wonder for long.

"I see you weren't too keen on my bandaging skills, huh?"

Steve blushed and looked contrite.

"Sorry ... I just didn't want to ... well draw attention to myself I guess ... you know it was pretty conspicuous." Then as he saw Mike's worried glance he added. " It's ok Mike. It's not bleeding anymore."

"It's also not very protected from infection either. Will you at least humor me and let me put a new dressing on it when we get back to my house and there's nobody else to see it, huh?"

"Ok, Mike. "

"Good, you might let me take a look at those knuckles too while I have the first aid box out. But for now, just lie back and relax and we'll be at your place before you know it." Mike said grinning, as he started the car and drove off, feeling relieved that he had found Steve and talked him around and now he just hoped that the rest of the evening would go as smoothly and that he could help Steve through tomorrow's Anniversary without further incident.


	10. Chapter 10

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: Thank you again for the generous and encouraging words that were left on my last chapter. To all who read and support my stories..you guys are awesome and much appreciated. :-)**

Chapter 10

As Mike drove out of the underground parking garage and exited Bryant Street, he glanced casually over at Steve who went to lay his head back against the seat and winced as the uncovered cut protested. Snapping his head back up as the cut stung, Mike placed a hand on his partner's arm while he drove with the other and spoke.

"THAT'S why you should have left the dressings on buddy boy. Are you alright?"

Steve once more touched the cut very cautiously and was relieved to see that it still wasn't bleeding.

"Yeah ... But you're right, it wasn't a good idea, although it seemed it at the time."

The young man shifted in his seat and Mike noticed him nursing the knuckles on his right hand too. Again without taking his eyes off the road he asked.

"What did you hit with that hand?"

Steve didn't answer but looked too embarrassed to tell. He shrugged instead, his left shoulder protesting the gesture and he sighed heavily, purposefully looking out the passenger window to avoid Mike's gaze.

"Come on, you can tell me. What poor inanimate object did you take out your frustrations on huh?" Mike persisted in a non-judgmental tone.

Without turning around Steve murmured quietly.

"The elevator doors ... "

Mike smiled.

"Well, I've felt like punching those myself a few times, especially when the elevator takes so long to arrive. However next time, maybe pick something a little softer to hit, ok?"

Again a quiet subdued answer reached Mike's ears.

"Yeah ... Ok."

The rest of the drive to Union Street was taken in silence and Mike disliked how withdrawn and quiet his partner was. It was almost a quarter to nine when they pulled up outside Steve's apartment. The sky was very overcast and looked angry. Looking up at it through the windscreen Mike spoke as Steve went to get out of the car.

"By the look of that sky, it looks like we're in for a few serious downpours buddy boy. Let's try to get back to De Haro Street before they arrive huh?"

"Sure Mike, I won't be long. "

Mike watched Steve get out and then followed him. He noted that Steve climbed the steps very wearily and observed him as he opened the door and flung his keys on the hall table.

"Make yourself at home Mike. It won't take me long to throw a bag together."

"Ok ..."

As Steve headed for his bedroom, Mike wandered into the living room and shook his head at the state of the room. The couch was all messed up as if someone had been lying on it recently. A blanket lay in a crumpled heap at one end and the cushions were haphazardly strewn here and there. There was an ashtray full of sunflower seed shells on the coffee table, an empty bottle of beer and several old newspapers and magazines in a scattered pile beside them. The clothes Steve had been wearing yesterday were strewn casually over the back of the armchair. Appalled by the mess, Mike shouted in at Steve.

"Buddy boy, this room is a mess. Don't you ever tidy up?"

Steve came out of the bedroom and joined Mike in the living room, his face flushed with embarrassment as he had forgotten how he had left it that morning. Grabbing up the ashtray and the empty bottle, he muttered apologetically.

"Sorry Mike, I was going to tidy it this evening. I forgot ... "

Mike took the items back off Steve and placed them back down on the coffee table, regretting making the young man feel worse than he already did and deciding to make himself useful instead.

"That's alright. You've had other things on your mind. I'll do it, you go pack your bag."

"No Mike, it's my mess, I should clean it up. It won't take a minute."

But Mike was unyielding.

"I've got it. Now GO."

Steve knew he was fighting a losing battle so he thanked Mike instead and headed back to the bedroom.

Looking at the room, all the evidence pointed to the fact that Steve had spent a very restless night on the couch last night and that explained why the young man was so tired today. Removing his coat and hat and placing them on the chair beside the hall table, Mike set to work. First he brought the bottle and the ashtray into Steve's small kitchen and emptied the contents of the ashtray into the trash and placed the bottle with other empty ones in a box beside the door. Then returning to the living room he fixed the cushions and put the newspapers and magazines in a neat pile. Then he picked up the blanket to fold it and something fell out of it onto the floor. Reaching down Mike picked up a small, old looking photo album. He was tempted to look through it but instead he placed it on the coffee table as he folded the blanket and threw it over the back of the couch. Then picking up the clothes he went to the closed bedroom door and shouted into Steve from outside.

"Steve, where's your laundry basket?"

"In the bathroom, Mike."

Mike took the clothes and put them in Steve's laundry basket and then returned to the living room, admiring his handiwork as he came in. The living room was tidy again so he sat down on the couch and waited for Steve to finish up. The photo album kept catching his eye and yet he didn't want to pry into Steve's private things. As the seconds ticked by, the temptation became too strong and Mike picked it up and listened for signs of Steve returning. When he heard nothing he flicked the album open and swallowed hard as he saw family pictures of a man and woman with a little boy. He brought it closer and studied the face of the little boy and recognized Steve's features immediately. He flicked through the pages and saw Steve at various ages from a baby up to a toddler and then up to a five year old and he felt a lump appear in his throat. It had been on the couch and he figured that Steve had been looking through it last night as the Anniversary was imminent. He sat staring at the pictures sadly, when without warning a quiet voice startled him from the doorway.

"They're the only pictures I have of them. "

Mike looked up and it was his turn to blush as he closed the album and placed it back down on the table.

"I'm sorry Steve. I shouldn't have been looking at it. It fell out of the blanket as I was folding it and I ... "

Steve saw how flustered Mike was at getting caught looking at it and quickly stopped his apology and put him out of his misery.

"It's alright Mike. I don't mind you looking at it. It's not like it's a secret." he said sadly as he came in and sat down beside Mike briefly and picked the album back up.

Mike was relieved that Steve wasn't angry with him and so decided to chance his arm further.

"Were you looking at that last night?"

Steve continued to flick through the pictures and Mike worried as he thought he saw moisture in the young man's eyes. After several more seconds Steve answered.

"Yeah ... It's kind of a tradition I have. I look through it around their anniversary, just so I never ... forget what they looked like ... "

Steve forced a smile at Mike and then clearing his throat he stood up and closed the album, taking it with him out into the hall as he called back.

"I just have to get my toilet bag and clothes for tomorrow and then we're good to go."

Steve wandered into his bedroom again, placed the album on his bed and then went over and opened the wardrobe. He wasn't sure what he should wear for the Anniversary mass but knew he wanted to look smart so he flicked through the clothes that were hanging up until he got to a suit bag right at the end of the rack. It was an expensive suit that he kept for special occasions and had only worn it maybe twice, the last time being for a friend's wedding just a few months back. He winced as he remembered how much of his paycheck he had spent on it. He decided that it would be perfect and took it out and laid the suit bag down carefully on the neatly made bed that he hadn't slept in last night. He then went to the bathroom and collected his toilet bag and razor and returned to place them in the bag. As he did, he checked what he had packed. As he mentally made sure he had everything he needed, he went to zip it up but then he spotted the album and after several minutes of deliberation, he placed it in too and closed it fully.

Then he changed into a pair of jeans and he removed his bloodied shirt and fetching a t-shirt from the chest of drawers he pulled it on, avoiding his sore head and shoulder as best he could in the process. As he smoothed it down and put on his casual jacket, transferring his wallet into it from his old one, he heard Mike arrive at the doorway behind him.

"You know you'd be better to leave that shirt soaking in cold water in your bathroom sink while you're gone. It helps get the bloodstains out.'

Steve turned to look at him curiously.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, works every time. "

"Ok, thanks for the tip."

And taking it up, he passed Mike and left the shirt soaking as he was told.

Returning he picked up the hold all and the suit bag and announced proudly.

"Ok, I'm ready."

"That was fast. How come men can pack a bag in fifteen minutes but women take so long? Do you know that when Jeannie comes home for the weekend she spends more time unpacking and repacking than anything else." he said jokingly and managed to raise a slight smile from Steve.

"If you're looking at me for the answers, then you're looking in the wrong place. I don't claim to understand women's minds any more than you do. Actually I don't think any man does."

"You've got that right buddy boy. Ok, come on. Let's get to De Haro Street before that rain starts."

Steve thanked Mike for tidying up his living room and then gathering up their things and locking up carefully they made their way back down to the car. They wasted no time in getting to De Haro Street but the sky grew darker and more ominous all the time. Parking outside, Mike got Steve's stuff from the back seat and locked the car up but they had only made it up half of the steps to Mike's house when the heavens opened and the rain sheeted down. Mike took Steve's elbow to hurry him the rest of the way but kept a firm grip on him in case the rushing caused another dizzy spell and as Mike quickly opened the front door, the two men dashed over the threshold, dripping wet off their coats as they did.

Mike still had a grip on Steve and before anything else he quickly asked.

"Are you ok? That sprint didn't make you dizzy did it?"

"No ... I'm fine, just soggy like Tony's finest." Steve joked as he shook drops of rain from his hair and discarded his wet coat.

"Wise guy! " Mike teased back as he put Steve's belongings down on the hall floor and took off his hat and flicked raindrops off it in Steve's direction as the younger man laughed.

Closing the front door, Mike took his coat off and taking Steve's coat too, he hung them up to dry alongside his hat and then rubbing his hands together he spoke.

"Say it's chilly in here now. Why don't I light a fire and make us some coffee to warm us up and dry us out. Sound good?"

Steve shivered and smiled.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'll tell you what though. I'll light the fire, you make the coffee, ok?"

"Deal. And turn the lamps on will you please? " Mike exclaimed as he headed for the kitchen and Steve headed for the living room. Switching on the lamps, he then went to the fireplace and knelt down carefully in front of it.

As he set it and then lit it he gently leaned over and blew at the flames until it was nicely roaring. Then he stretched out his hands to feel the soothing warmth that was coming from it. He stayed staring into the flames for several minutes, immersed in his own thoughts and memories before Mike's voice drew his attention away.

"Ok, buddy boy. Hot steaming coffee coming up." he announced, arriving with a tray behind him and setting it down on the coffee table.

Then he took a seat in the armchair and proceeded to pour out two cups of coffee and put milk and sugar in them. Instead of sitting up into the armchair behind him Steve merely sat back leaning against it as he gazed back into the flames. Mike watched him closely and then spoke jokingly.

"We do have chairs you know. You don't have to sit on the floor. What is it with you sitting on floors today?"

Steve chuckled at Mike's words.

"I don't know, but I prefer it down here. "

"Ok, suit yourself. Here's your coffee."

Steve accepted the cup gratefully and seemed to savor his first mouthful.

"Good?" Mike asked smiling.

"Very."

Just as he went to take a second sip an unmerciful loud clap of thunder sounded and Steve jumped, just barely saving his cup from spilling and scalding him as he did.

"Wow, did you hear that? Now THAT was loud. It sounded like it was right over the house." he said bracing himself for a possible second bang.

Mike saw him startle and started to laugh.

"What?"

"You! Don't tell me you're afraid of thunder and lightning are you?"

"NO! Of course not." Steve said indignantly and then as Mike stared at him incredulously he stammered.

"It just unnerved me that's all. "

"Ok, ok I believe you, though millions wouldn't."

Steve calmed himself a little then started to smile as he saw Mike watching him closely. Then in a quiet, humorous voice he muttered honestly.

"I used to be though ... when I was a kid of course."

"Of course... " Mike said smiling and then he started laughing as Steve startled again as another loud bang came and lightning lit up the room.

"Aw lay off Mike ... " Steve pleaded, his already frayed nerves getting a further battering by the storm.

"Sorry buddy boy ... " Mike said apologetically, reaching over and patting his arm. " Well I guess that puts paid to watching the game. We shouldn't have the tv on during a storm like that. Actually maybe I better get some candles ready in case the power goes out."

Steve looked apprehensively up at his partner.

"You think the power will go out?"

"Well it's possible, better to be prepared though. Don't tell me you were afraid of the dark too? ... when you were a kid of course." he added for effect.

"Ha, Ha, very funny. No, my nerves are just a bit shot today." he said downheartedly as his smile faded and Mike felt sorry for the young man.

More loud claps of thunder rang out and lightning flashed several times more as the rain hammered down. Mike could tell that Steve was very on edge.

"Well after the day you've had I'm not surprised your nerves are shot." he soothed sympathetically. "Besides, the power will probably be fine, don't worry."

No sooner had the words left his mouth when an even louder bang of thunder struck, and lightning flashed and the lamps went out. Steve and Mike were left with just the firelight glow for light.

"You had to say it didn't you?" Steve complained. "Well this is just great. Where do you keep your candles? " he asked starting to get up but Mike had gotten up first and stopped him from rising.

"Stay put buddy boy. I know this house like the back of my hand even in the dark. You don't. I'll get the candles and some flashlights. Besides the day you're having you'll only end up falling and banging that head again. I'll be right back."

Steve sat back down and watched Mike head off into the darkness. He was apprehensive for some reason. The thunder banged again and the room lit up even more with the lightning, now that the lamps were out. He heard the rain spilling down outside and was glad that they were inside out of it. He huddled a little closer to the fire for comfort. He listened carefully for Mike and heard a strange noise and Mike muttering crossly.

"Mike? You ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry. I just forgot I put your bag in the hall and nearly tripped over it. I won't be long."

"Mike, be careful."

"I will ... "

He heard Mike's footsteps in the hall and then nothing. He waited quietly as the storm outside raged on. It felt like a long time had passed and Mike still hadn't come back and neither had the power. Steve was getting worried. Maybe he had fallen in the dark and hurt himself. Then he heard some more noises but couldn't make out what they were. He listened and heard nothing else.

"MIKE? Are you ok?"

There was no answer.

"MIKE?"

Again no reply came. Steve felt his heartbeat quicken and his breathing became unsteady as he felt something touch off his shoulder. He whipped his head around and saw Mike's face inches from his, illuminated with the flashlight. He jumped back with the fright and Mike convulsed laughing.

"MIKE! You nearly gave me a heart attack " he said breathing heavily and swatting at the older man in disgust but he couldn't help but see the funny side of Mike's harmless prank and quickly joined in the laughing too.

As Mike's laughing subsided, he patted Steve's right shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry buddy boy but I couldn't help myself. Are you ok?"

"Yes, I will be if you promise not to do that again. " he spoke still giggling.

"Ok, I promise. No more pranks. Come on. Let's get these candles lit and then we can have some more coffee.

They lit several candles and put them around the living room and then sat back down again in the same places and Mike refilled the coffee cups. The thunder wasn't banging as frequently and after each bang and flash Mike heard Steve muttering quietly. Curious as to what he was doing, he tried to hear what he was saying but Steve was whispering it too low. After the third time it happened, Steve spoke.

"The storm's moving further away. It should stop soon. "

"How can you tell that?"

"Didn't anyone ever show you the Mississippi trick?"

Mike looked at Steve as if he had suddenly sprouted an extra head and shook his head.

"No, I don't believe they did. Do tell."

Steve shifted slightly where he sat as if wondering whether or not he should share his tale but then started to explain.

"Well ... when I used to be afraid of storms as a kid, My Grandfather showed it to me. After the flash of lightning you start counting, one Mississippi , two Mississippi and so forth until the bang of thunder comes. The less Mississippis you can say the closer the storm is and the more you can say, the further away it is. "

Mike sat back in his chair and Steve could see him smile in the glow from the fire.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, honest, no joke. You see the second last time I counted to eight but the last time I got to ten so it's moving away."

Mike shook his head in admiration and smiled wider.

"Buddy boy, observations like that are what's going to get you to the top of the Department."

Both men laughed and then Mike fidgeted and used his flashlight to look at his watch.

"Say it's almost half ten. I know I said I wouldn't force you to eat and I won't, but do you fancy some toast before bedtime? I know I'd feel better if you ate something."

Mike saw Steve make a face at the suggestion of food but then he looked at the older man strangely.

"Wait a minute. How do you plan on making toast if the power is still out?"

"Haven't you ever toasted bread by the fire, huh?"

Steve shook his head.

"Well then you haven't lived. Watch and learn buddy boy, watch and learn."

Mike took his flashlight and headed off while Steve stoked up the fire a little and threw more wood on it. When Mike returned he had bread on two long utensils and handed one to Steve. They spent the next few minutes toasting and eating the bread and while he wasn't exactly wolfing it down, Mike was pleased that Steve was nibbling at his and eating it slowly but surely. As he nibbled his last piece, he washed it down with some coffee and spoke unexpectedly.

"So Michael, I've shared my deepest, darkest fears, this evening. Aren't you going to share yours or doesn't Iron Mike have any?" he added lightheartedly.

"We all have fears buddy boy. I'm not immune to them."

Steve looked surprised.

"Well you're not afraid of thunder and lightning, or the dark, or heights ... hmmmm ...so let me guess, spiders?" he added laughing.

"Very funny. No, wrong guess. But you were right partially. Those other things don't frighten me but my fears are well ... more practical than that."

Now Steve looked confused and uneasy about the tone Mike had used. He decided not to push Mike to explain but sipped more of his gradually cooling coffee as he waited for Mike to continue in his own time.

"Seeing as you asked buddy boy, my biggest fear is not being able to protect the people I care about. "

"Mike ... what are you talking about?"

"Well, we signed up to serve and protect buddy boy, didn't we?"

"Yeah ..." Steve answered quietly and very apprehensively, wondering where Mike was going with this line of conversation and starting to regret asking the question in the first place.

"And we do it every day on the job. Protect people who need protecting and seek justice for those who we failed to protect, right?"

Again Steve merely nodded his head solemnly and drained the last of his coffee nervously.

"But when it comes to my own family, well I couldn't protect Helen, could I?"

"Mike ... Helen was sick. You did everything you could for her. Some things are just out of our control Mike." Steve said, his heart sinking at the turn of the conversation.

"Yes, I know that. But I couldn't save her. Then there's Jeannie. All the way in another state and knowing I can't protect her from here. And when we chase a shooter into a dark place and we don't know where he is, sometimes I'm afraid I won't be able to protect you either from one of his bullets. Those are my fears buddy boy, so now you know. Not living up to my Iron Mike reputation so much now huh?"

Steve had gone very quiet, totally regretting ever asking the question now as he saw Mike staring into the open flames and looking downhearted in the dim light. He wasn't sure how he should answer and he struggled to find the right words.

"Mike ... In those situations I feel that way about you too Mike, but ... I also know that being partnered with you I have the best chance of surviving those situations. I trust you implicitly Mike and as for Jeannie. Sure she's in another state and you cant protect her while she's there but you taught her well Mike and thanks to that she's well able to look after herself. You have to trust her and know that she's capable of looking out for herself . I should know. When you're on your own, you learn to rely on your own instincts a lot and you manage Mike, because you have to. And as for Helen ... that was not your fault. She got sick and from what you've told me over time, you did everything you could for her. You couldn't do anything about that anymore than I could stop the drunk driver that killed my parents?"

Steve finished his long speech and dry swallowed, hoping that Mike would feel better from what he had to say and he almost sighed with relief as he saw the older man smile.

"So you're saying I shouldn't feel guilty about not being able to protect Helen."

"Yeah ... that's exactly what I'm saying."

Mike got a strange look in his eye and leaned forward making Steve very uncomfortable. Then he spoke purposefully and seriously, his recent motives for leading the conversation instantly revealed in the question he asked.

"Ok, you're right ... so why do you still feel guilty about your parents buddy boy? You couldn't help what happened to them either."

Steve's face fell as he knew he'd been cornered by an expert.

" That's different ..."

"How? You couldn't prevent what happened to them anymore than I could have prevented what happened to Helen, Steve."

"No ... you don't understand." the young man stammered .

"Then MAKE me understand" Mike said forcefully, hating having to do it, but knowing that it was the only way that Steve would ever open up and deal with whatever he was torturing himself over.

"I ... I ... was supposed to be with them ..." Steve answered, his voice breaking and in the flickering firelight a tear was visible as it trailed down his cheek.


	11. Chapter 11

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: Apologies for the delay in updating this chapter. Ongoing health issues continue to plague me and made writing difficult. But finally the next installment is here. Thank you for your patience and your continuing support of this story.**

Chapter 11

At Steve's words, Mike's face fell and as he caught sight of the stray tear as the flames flickered and lit up the left side of Steve's face, he reached over and placed a hand on the young man's right shoulder.

"Alright, take it easy now. What do you mean by that Steve?"

Steve stared unnervingly at the older man, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he did. He didn't answer at first as if the words wouldn't leave his lips and just as Mike was contemplating coaxing him further, he spoke again but his words were forced and shaky.

"I was supposed to have gone with them Mike. Tomorrow ... could have been my ... Anniversary too ..."

Those words pulled at Mike's heartstrings. To think that only for a simple twist of fate, Steve might never have come into his life at all.

"Steve, what happened? You need to talk about it buddy boy. Come on now, tell me ... please."

Steve swallowed hard, his face unreadable. He took a deep breath and looked back at the fire as if staring at it while he spoke made the story easier to tell. Then in a heart-wrenching tone he spoke.

"They were visiting friends of my Mothers in Los Angeles. Her friend hadn't seen me since I was a baby and wanted to see me. But ... one of our neighbors had a boy my age and they were having a birthday party for him that weekend and I was invited. It was going to be at their house and they had booked a clown ... and there was to be a magic show and as an extra treat the kids were having a sleepover. I really wanted to go so I ... begged them to let me. They could see how much I really wanted to go ... but they were to be away all weekend so the neighbor Mrs. Carmichael said I could stay there until ... they ... they came home. But they never did Mike ... They never ... made it home. Mike ... Maybe they were driving too fast on their hurry to get home to me or maybe if I'd been with them they would have been traveling slower or had to stop more often. Maybe they never would have met that car ... "

Steve's voice was getting increasingly more uneasy and his upset now was plainly visible on his face. His tortured expression broke Mike's heart and as more tears ran freely, he brought both his hands up to cover his face just as he had done at the hospital earlier. Mike squeezed Steve's shoulder and spoke firmly.

"Steve you can't think like that! Second guessing doesn't do anyone any good. "

Behind his hands, Steve's voice filtered through his fingers.

"A stupid birthday party Mike. They lost their lives while I was at a stupid ... birthday party."

Mike could hear the pain and grief in Steve's voice and knew his true feelings were finally spilling out. He got up from where he sat and knelt down in front of Steve determined to help the young man rid himself of the guilt, sorrow and doubt he had harbored and hidden for so long. Steve heard the movement and taking down his hands, he saw Mike getting off his chair and down onto the floor in front of him.

"Mike, don't. Watch your knees." Steve pleaded unsuccessfully.

"Forget about my knees. You have to listen to me buddy boy. At the risk of sounding like Lenny, you're suffering from survivor's guilt, plain and simple. But you know that don't you?"

"Aw come on Mike ... labeling it doesn't make it any better you know?"

"I know that, believe me. Look Steve, I don't claim to know why things happen the way they do anymore than the next man but I do know this. It wasn't your time buddy boy. And I wish more than anything it hadn't been your parent's time either or Helen's time all those years ago but it WAS! And there's not a thing we can do about that, no matter how much it hurts us or how much we analyze it. Steve, look at all the good you've done since that tragedy happened, at all the good you've done over your years on the force. All the people you've helped, the people you've saved. What would have happened to all them had you not gone to that party twenty five years ago? Think about that Steve. You were spared for a reason."

Steve shook his head and wiped at tears that were still threatening to fall.

"Someone else would have helped them Mike. No-one's irreplaceable. "

"NO! You don't KNOW that Steve! Anymore than you know that if you had gone with them, things would have turned out differently. They might have still got killed. You might have survived it and been crippled or worse. You can't rethink that accident. And whether you like it or not that stupid party as you called it saved your life!"

Steve looked deep into Mike's eyes as his words sunk in and Mike saw the tortured and harrowing pain that he had carried for so long burn strongly in his green eyes. He then watched as in an equally tortured voice he almost whispered.

"But it wasn't a life after that Mike ... Not like everyone else's ..."

Mike swallowed back down the lump in his throat and he placed a gentle hand on the back of the young man's neck.

"I know Steve, I know ... but everything you went through, everything you coped with made you the strong young man you are today. You have to see that. "

Steve scoffed a little as he brushed a new tear away with the back of his left hand and spoke almost in a ridiculing tone.

"Oh yeah ... I feel real strong now Mike ... " he said sarcastically, feeling embarrassed and ashamed of his partial breakdown but Mike wasn't giving up.

"Now LISTEN to me! Tears and upset don't make you weak. They just prove you've been too strong for too long, that's all. Now give yourself a break will you? You have to let the guilt go Steve once and for all. Or it will eat you up inside. "

Steve shook his head and Mike grabbed the young man's neck more firmly and shook him just a little to get his attention better,

"Steve, for heavens sake listen to me, will you? Wherever your parents are now, do you think they regret that you weren't with them that day? Well DO YOU?"

Steve looked unsure for a minute but as he thought about it he shook his head sadly as Mike watched his eyes begin to water again.

"Exactly. Of course they don't. I know Steve because I speak as a parent. They'd be glad that you didn't go, that you got a chance to live your life and make something of yourself and if they could see you now, just like I do, they'd be PROUD buddy boy. Really, really proud of you."

At those words more tears fell and Steve almost shook with grief. He hung his head and Mike leaned forward to finalize his point.

"Steve, they wouldn't want you to carry guilt around with you like a noose around your neck. I saw those photos and I saw how they looked at you. They loved you buddy boy and you have to let the guilt go as much for them as for you. "

After several tortuous seconds of hearing Steve's ragged breathing and watching as he rubbed his eyes and face, he finally lifted his head to look at Mike and an unexpected word left his trembling lips.

"How?"

Mike squeezed the young man's neck as pride swelled within him. That one single word was music to Mike's ears as it was Steve's first step towards letting the grief go once and for all.

"There's only one way buddy boy. You must accept it. Accept that it happened for reasons we don't understand but it happened and that's all there is to it. No more second guessing. No more feeling guilty because you're alive and they're not. Steve ... let the mass tomorrow be your starting point. Instead of feeling guilty for surviving when they didn't, live your life FOR them. What do you say huh? Will you try? "

Steve sighed a world-weary sigh and nodded reluctantly.

"Ok, I'll try Mike ... "

"Good man " Mike exclaimed proudly and then patted the back of Steve's neck. He then took his hand back and clapped his hands together causing a confused look to settle over Steve's face.

"Now you know what this calls for don't you? "

Steve felt drained and totally exhausted and his eyes now felt tired and puffy to add insult to injury after his recent emotional release so he tried to redeem himself and the situation by replying lightheartedly.

"A clean handkerchief? ... "

This made Mike laugh and he admired the young man's self deprecating retort.

"You never do seem to have one of those when you need one do you, buddy boy?"

Steve shook his head and halfheartedly chuckled at Mike's observation.

"No, I guess I don't ... "

Then feeling totally worn out, he went to lean his head back against the armchair, but the uncovered cut again stung and he whipped it back up as quick, as a small pain-filled groan escaped his lips. Mike heard it and very gingerly got up off his knees and stood looking down at his partner.

"Well first we need the first aid kit so I can dress that head of yours and then we need another little something to make us feel better."

"What's that Mike?" Steve said rubbing his sore head very carefully.

"You'll see." he added mysteriously, laying a finger on the side of his nose and winking and then picking up his flashlight he headed off again.

Steve sighed again and brushed his hands through his hair, avoiding the cut as he did. He stared back at the flames that were gently dying in the hearth and thought about everything Mike had said. It all made sense as Mike's words usually did and he felt a little easier somehow. He had never spoken so candidly to anyone about the accident before or how their deaths had affected him. He had never even spoken much about it to his Grandfather because after he had made him cry that one time in the church he always feared that it would cause the same reaction and so he avoided speaking about them to the older man and instead buried his feelings of guilt somewhere deep inside of him until it had resurfaced earlier today in the Church. Now that the truth was out and he had told Mike how he felt, it didn't seem quite as painful anymore. A wise saying that his Grandfather used to say quite often, popped out of nowhere into his head _"A trouble shared is a trouble halved."_ and he smiled at the truth in it. Then feeling his legs going to sleep in the position he was sitting in, he shifted position a little just as he heard Mike returning.

"Ok, Steve, sit forward will you and let me sit in that chair behind you."

Steve did as he was told and then Mike sat in the armchair and got Steve to lean his head forward. Balancing the torch on the arm of the chair so that it illuminated the area that needed dressing, Steve heard Mike open the first aid box and heard several plastic packets getting ripped open. He heard a bottle of liquid getting shook and anticipated the sting that would follow. Sure enough as Mike cleaned the cut, it stung like crazy and Steve audibly sucked in a breath as Mike placed a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him jumping too much at the discomfort.

"Sorry, buddy boy. We're nearly done but you've been going around with that cut exposed all evening so I just wanted to clean it up a bit again just to be on the safe side. "

Placing a dressing and some medical tape on it he then asked to see Steve's scraped and reddened knuckles.

"Oh, they're ok Mike. They're not even hurting any more."

"Nice try buddy boy. Now give me the HAND. "

Mike's words and tone left no room for argument so Steve held out his hand and once more winced as Mike cleaned the scrapes with antiseptic and watched sulkily as Mike wrapped them in a light bandage.

"There we are. Good as new. Well as near as. Now for your reward for being a good patient."

Steve looked up curiously at Mike's wide grin as from behind the chair he produced a tub of chocolate ice-cream and two spoons.

"Aw Mike, I don't know ... " Steve began, not really sure how his stomach would react to such an offering just yet but his protest was cut short.

"What's there to know except that with the power out this ice-cream is in grave danger of melting and we can't let it go to waste now can we? Besides there's very little chocolate ice-cream can't cure." Mike stated convincingly, handing the young man one of the spoons and discarding the lid off the tub.

Steve was grateful at least that it was only half full so as Mike sat back in the armchair and Steve shifted sideways to sit beside it they both tucked into the ice-cream, Mike albeit a little more enthusiastically than Steve. As they ate the ice-cream a comfortable silence settled between them until about ten minutes later when Steve started to laugh. It was a sound that warmed Mike's heart despite the chill of the ice-cream he was eating and he turned to watch his partner in the glow from the fire.

"What? What's so funny?"

"I just didn't expect to be sitting here eating ice-cream in front of an open-fire with a storm raging outside tonight that's all. Can you imagine what Jeannie would say if she saw us, huh?"

Mike chuckled too.

"Well if I know my daughter as well as I think I do, at first she'd probably think we'd lost our marbles buddy boy but then secondly, she'd make a big fuss about that dressing on your head and that bandage on your hand and then she'd get another spoon and join us."

"Yeah ... " Steve said seemingly deep in thought and then he added "How is she doing Mike?"

"Jeannie? Oh she's fine. Her exams aren't for another six weeks but she's studying hard. Actually I ... I rang her today shortly after my meeting with Rudy. She told me specifically to send you her love."

Steve looked up more curiously at Mike and wondered why he had rang her today. Mike caught the look and quickly explained.

"I just wanted to tell her I was on leave tomorrow just in case she was looking for me."

"Oh, ok. " Steve answered and then more apprehensively he added "Did ... Did you tell her why?"

Mike shifted a little in his seat and stared at the fire as he spoke.

"I told her we were having a mass for your parents and that afterwards we were heading to Modesto for the day to visit their grave. You didn't mind me telling her that much did you?"

"No ... No that's alright. What ... did she say?"

"She said to tell you she'd be thinking of you and to make sure we brought warm jackets because graveyards can be cold places ..."

Steve smiled at Jeannie's maternal fussing even all the way from Arizona.

As they sat talking about Jeannie and had just finished the tub of ice-cream , there was a loud knock at the door. Mike looked at Steve and he returned the curious glance.

"Well now who in God's name is calling at this hour of night during a downpour like that?" Mike said getting up to go and investigate. "Why it's almost midnight."

"You want me to come with you?" Steve asked apprehensively.

"Why? You think I might need back up?"

Steve laughed and then shouted after the departing man.

"Well I hope not. Check out the window first to see who it is."

"Yes, Daddy." Mike called back making Steve snigger even more.

With Mike gone to answer the door, Steve sat back around in front of the armchair and listened nervously as Mike opened it. He heard a woman's voice and Mike talking very calmly to whoever it was and so he relaxed. As he listened to the lighthearted and pleasant sounding voices conversing out in the hall, he placed a cushion behind his head and lay his head back to rest gently on it. The fire was almost out but the embers were still giving off some heat and Steve felt it making him sleepy. He found his eyes closing of their own accord and unintentionally he drifted off to sleep, the traumatic events of the day finally taking their ultimate toll.

After about ten minutes of conversation, Mike said goodbye and closed the door on his departing guest and headed back to the living room. As he came in he spoke playfully.

"It's ok buddy boy. You can put the heavy guns away. It was just Mrs. Donnelly from next door. "

When no reply came, Mike came around the side of the chair and studied his partner closely. The young man's eyes were closed and if he wasn't hearing things, he swore that the young man was snoring slightly. He smiled at first but then frowned when he realized that he couldn't leave the young man on the floor all night so reluctantly he reached over and shook Steve gently.

"Steve. Wake up now. Buddy boy? "

Steve startled awake but was prevented from jumping up by Mike's firm hand on his chest, just in case his dizziness returned. He looked at Mike in the half light, still half asleep and then remembered where he was.

"What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

Mike chuckled.

"No, nothing's wrong. You fell asleep while I was at the door with Mrs Donnelly. I'm sorry for waking you but there's a bed upstairs with your name on it and it's a lot more comfortable than my living room floor. Ok? Come on, up you come."

Steve grabbed Mike's outstretched hand and let the old man pull him up, his legs tingling with pins and needles from his lengthy time on the floor. He staggered slightly from being suddenly upright and from the extreme tiredness he was feeling and Mike grabbed him around the shoulder's gently but enough to keep him steady.

"Whoa now, easy does it. You're almost sleep walking buddy boy. Time for you to get to bed. Come on. Nice and slowly now."

Steve nodded and allowed the older man to steer him towards the stairs but as they walked, snippets of what Mike had just said seemed to filter into his exhausted mind.

"Who did you say ... was at the door Mike? "

Mike smiled at Steve's sleepy sounding voice and answered as he stayed closely beside the almost staggering young man as they climbed the stairs to the second floor, using his flashlight to guide them.

"It was only my neighbor Mrs. Donnelly. Her son Karl works at the Power Company. She was doing her neighborly duty of informing us all that it wasn't a major outage and that they're working on restoring power and should have it back by early morning."

They reached the second floor landing and Mike once again steered Steve towards the spare room. Steve headed straight for the bed and sat down heavily, yawning repeatedly as he did. Mike left the lit flashlight on the bedside locker and then spoke to Steve who, although he was sitting, had his eyes closed again and was swaying slightly where he sat.

"Steve? Don't go back asleep just yet, ok? I know you're out on your feet, but I'm just going to fetch your bag and some painkillers in case you need them soon. Will you be ok there for a minute? Don't fall off the bed now."

Steve nodded but wasn't very convincing, so Mike hurried downstairs, and retrieving the things he needed he headed back to Steve as quickly as he could, hoping he wouldn't find Steve in a heap on the floor when he did. Coming through the doorway Mike smirked as he saw Steve now sprawled on the bed on top of the covers, on his stomach, his face almost buried into the pillow. Shaking his head he came towards the bed and placed a gentle hand on Steve's back.

"Steve? I have your bag. You need to get ready for bed. Steve?"

But this time no answer came. Steve was fast asleep, again snoring lightly. Mike chuckled and shook his head one more time. Knowing he was fighting a losing battle he stood up and decided to just let the young man sleep. He went to the end of the bed and gently pulled off Steve's boots one at a time and put them on the floor and then afraid that he might get cold, he retrieved a blanket from the wardrobe and gently placed it over him. Steve stirred slightly at Mike's ministrations and so sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a gentle hand on the side of his partner's face Mike spoke again.

"Steve? Can you hear me?"

"Hmmmm?" came the extremely sleepy reply.

"I've left your painkillers, a glass of water and the flashlight on the bedside locker if you need them during the night, ok?"

"Mmm ... ok."

"If you need me at all, just holler ok? Good night buddy boy. Sleep well."

"Ok ... night ... Mike ...and thanks ... "

Steve's voice was thick with sleep and it sounded like he used his last ounce of energy to form those words. Mike smiled and took one more look at the back of Steve's head to check the dressing one last time and satisfied that it was ok, he stood up, turned off the flashlight and left the room, closing over the door halfway as he did. Mike headed back downstairs and made sure the fire was fully out and put the fireguard back in place. He blew out all the candles and locked up the house carefully. Then using the second flashlight he headed back upstairs. As he passed the spare room, he glanced in quickly and saw that Steve hadn't moved a muscle since he had left him and was happy enough that the young man was tired enough to hopefully sleep all through the night. He quickly went to his room and got ready for bed and as the day's events caught up on him too, he yawned loudly. Leaving his bedroom door open just in case Steve called him, he got into bed and as he heard the rain spilling down outside his bedroom window and a distant clap of thunder every now and then, it wasn't long before he was sleeping soundly too.

The following three hours were peaceful in 768 De Haro Street as the storm finally petered out fully and the heavy rain stopped. Both men slept soundly through it all but at three thirty am as Mike was sleeping peacefully, in the spare room, Steve's peaceful rest ended, as the nightmare began.

He was once more surrounded by people and he was a small boy again. Someone's hands were on his shoulders and he looked up to see if it was his Grandfather. He saw his Grandfather's face sad and solemn against a blue sky and his heart raced. Where were they now? They were not in the Church anymore but outside. He turned his head around and saw headstones behind him and his breathing quickened to match his heart rate. He was at their funeral again. There were people in front of him blocking his way and he couldn't see what was happening. He tried to see around the many bodies and caught a quick glimpse of the two caskets and heard the low voice of a priest reciting prayers. A striking voice started singing and as the melancholic tune continued, Steve felt his Grandfather's hands tremble and knew he was struggling to hold back his grief for Steve's sake. More activity took place at the front and Steve couldn't see what was going on. A man all in black came to stand beside his Grandfather and he handed the older man four single red roses. His Grandfather was disputing something with the other man and Steve remembered the words clearly. _"No, he's too young. I'll do it but not the boy."_ His Grandfather had then knelt down in front of him.

"You stay here with Mrs. Richardson Steve ok? I'll be right back. I promise. Don't follow me now. Good boy."

His Grandfather moved away and Steve could feel the panic and fear rise within him as the older lady wrapped her arms around his chest protectively.

"He'll be back in just a moment Steve. You're safe here with me." she had whispered in his ear and while her voice was soft and comforting his eyes never left the back of his retreating Grandfather.

The other people parted to let him through and Steve saw a group of men lowering the caskets into the grave. His heart almost stopped when he saw where they were putting them. Into the ground, cold and dark. His mother hadn't liked the dark. She wouldn't like it. His Grandfather must be going to stop them. Yes, that had to be it. But as a person moved a little from in front of him he saw his Grandfather throw the roses into the grave and then the men started shoveling dirt in on top of them. People started moving away and Mrs. Richardson tried to steer him away too but he resisted.

"It's alright Steve. We'll wait at the car for your Grandfather."

But Steve pulled away. He saw his Grandfather standing at the graveside, watching them shoveling the dirt into the grave and he raced towards him yelling as loud as he could.

"NO! "

He raced straight for the grave but his Grandfather caught him and held him tightly.

"Steve, it's alright. "

"NO! She's afraid of the dark. You can't put her in there. Please STOP! "

His Grandfather had a strong grip around his waist and was preventing him from going further. The men had stopped shoveling and were looking horrified at the scene unfolding before them. They stood shoulder to shoulder blocking the child's view of the grave while his Grandfather lifted him with two strong hands and started walking away with him.

"Stop them please " Steve begged with a final heartfelt plea but his Grandfather just walked faster and his tear filled words rang in Steve's ear.

"They're not in there anymore Steve. Remember I told you? They're somewhere else now that's bright and peaceful. You don't have to worry. They're ok now. Everything's going to be ok. "

Steve remembered the faces of the gravediggers as they stood guard over his parent's grave as slowly they grew more distant. He finally gave up struggling and he remembered burying his face against his Grandfather's shoulder as they walked and crying so hard he felt his insides were broken. He couldn't stop but all the way he felt his Grandfather's firm grip and heard his soothing words in his ear. _" Shush now. I'm going to take care of you my boy, You're going to be ok."_ He remembered lifting his head as they reached the shiny black car and seeing a sea of faces looking at him pitifully. Their words whispered and echoed all around him. " _The poor boy. " "Traumatized he is." "Such a shame.""However will Harry cope rearing a young boy again at his age?" "The boy would be better off with a foster family ."_ Steve's loud sobs had stopped but he felt he couldn't breathe properly. There was a lump in his throat and a pain in his chest as it heaved and as his Grandfather lifted him into the back seat and got in beside him, he reached over and lifted him once more onto his lap as he urged the driver to quickly bring them home.

 **Back to the present:**

In Mike's spare room, Steve was quietly whimpering in his sleep, his breathing uneven and his body shaking. The covers long since discarded lay on a heap on the floor. With a sudden abrupt start Steve woke and he turned and sat up. As the dizziness abated he found it hard to breathe and he struggled to remember where he was in the darkened room. He felt panic and grief fill him and he didn't feel well. His stomach was churning again violently. He was shaking like a leaf and tried desperately to calm himself down, his nightmare over but still clear in his head and the feelings it had evoked still possessing him. He remembered that he was at Mike's. He prayed he hadn't woken him and he listened carefully but the only sound he could hear was his own heaving gasps and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He reached for the locker and found the flashlight and getting up carefully he stumbled towards the door almost falling over his hold all bag in the process. Reaching the door he exited onto the landing and looked tentatively towards Mike's bedroom door. It was wide open and he frowned, not wanting to alert him to his current distress. Moving away down the landing, remembering the way to the bathroom from memory, he found it and flicked the light switch but nothing happened. _Damn it, the power wasn't back yet_. He sunk to the floor heavily as the bile rose in his throat and he crawled towards the toilet, kicking the door over as he went and his stomach finally betrayed him for a second time in twenty four hours.

An hour later Mike woke. He wasn't sure what woke him but he had a bad feeling. He needed to check on Steve but he wasn't sure why. Getting out of bed he went to turn on the lamp but it didn't come on. He cursed the power outage and fumbled for his flashlight instead. Then feeling a chill in the air he grabbed his dressing gown and put it on and putting on his slippers, he padded his way out onto the landing. Everything was quiet but the landing was freezing. Colder that it normally would be, he wrapped the dressing gown tighter around himself and felt worry grip at him for some unknown reason. He headed for Steve's room and with great apprehension pushed open the door quietly. He shone the flashlight into the room and saw Steve's bed empty. His gut instinct rarely failed him. He had been right to wake up worried.

"Steve? " he called frantically heading towards the stairs but before he reached them his flashlight caught sight of something just inside the bathroom door on his right.

He could see two bare feet on the floor and his heart almost stopped. Sprinting now he reached the door and gently pushed it in.

"Steve?" he called out cautiously.

There was a freezing cold breeze pouring in the open window and he shivered and reached out to close it quickly before turning to see Steve sitting on the cold bathroom floor in his light t-shirt shivering violently. His back was against the bath and his legs were bent in front of him, his arms were resting on his knees with his head buried between them, just like on the garage floor earlier. Mike raced to kneel beside him and he shook Steve's arm with fear filling his being.

"Steve, what happened? Why in God's name are you sitting on the bathroom floor? Steve? ANSWER ME Steve! "


	12. Chapter 12

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: Apologies for the delayed update. Haven't been feeling the best so this chapter took longer to write but it is a long one so I hope it will prove worth the wait.**

Chapter 12

Steve lifted his head wearily from where he had been resting it on his knees. His head was thumping again and his throat and stomach were sore from the violent retching. Since his disturbing nightmarish flashback he had been unable to stop himself shaking and the cold was not helping him any either. He had heard Mike calling and hated that he was going to find him in the state he was in but he had little choice. He didn't feel up to moving yet from where he was. Mike's last shouted plea for a response from him had vibrated around his sore head and he quickly spoke, albeit quietly and shakily as he held his head in both hands.

"Mike, please don't shout ... "

Mike didn't like the look of his young partner. He was as white as a ghost, the illumination of the flashlight only making the paleness more pronounced and the way he was shaking was frightening.

"OK, I'm sorry. "

Mike spoke in a lowered tone but he continued frantically none the less.

"But you scared the hell out of me there for a minute when you didn't answer me. Steve, what are you doing on the floor instead of back in bed?"

Steve dropped his head again forward onto his knees, really not wanting to have to explain anything right now. He wanted Mike to go back to bed and to leave him alone to wallow in his own misery. How many times had he sat like this back in the bathroom of his college accommodation in Berkeley and then later back in his own apartment on Union Street. Times when he had been very sick, times when he had been upset by things that had happened at work, times when he had felt alone and troubled. He hadn't had to worry all those times about waking people up or being a nuisance. He always dealt with things on his own and in his own way and while it was more difficult that way and sometimes more distressing, it was also less embarrassing and he just wasn't used to being forced to talk about how he was feeling all the time. But Mike wasn't giving up that easily. Steve's continuing silence only bothered and worried him even more. Steve felt Mike's hand on his arm and then felt a hand on his forehead.

"Well, you don't feel like you have a temperature but you're freezing Steve. You're like a block of ice. How long have you been on this floor? "

Steve groaned and without looking up he mumbled a reluctant answer.

"I don't know exactly ... About an hour I guess ... "

"An HOUR? Steve, what are you trying to do, catch pneumonia? " he said somewhat grumpily, as Steve's lack of communication started to irk him.

Taking off his dressing gown he wrapped it around the young man's shoulders and arms in a vain attempt to warm him up even a little. Steve was still very shaky and unresponsive so Mike knew he would have to use some detective work to first try and figure out what had happened himself. If he guessed right, he hoped it would start the ball rolling so to speak and get Steve talking. Looking around the bathroom, he thought about what could have brought him here in the first place and then remembered the open window and it suddenly struck him. With deep anxiety in his voice he looked back at his partner and with a hand on his arm he asked.

"Did you get sick? Steve, answer me please, DID YOU? "

Steve groaned a second time at Mike's persistence and merely nodded without looking up. At Steve's confirmation, Mike's worry increased tenfold. He started to get up.

"Alright THAT'S IT! If you've been sick again and you won't talk to me then I'm calling the Hospital. That's twice you've vomited since hitting your head. Now I don't claim to be a medical expert but I do know that isn't a good sign. I'm going to get some advice. "

Mike hated having to threaten the one thing he knew Steve would baulk against but he knew Steve well enough by now that when he had retreated this far into himself, it would take nothing short of a swift, sharp shock to pull him back. Sure enough at Mike's words Steve's head whipped up and Mike saw a pleading mingled with a certain amount of sadness in the young man's eyes. He grabbed Mike's arm, effectively preventing him from getting up further.

"NO Mike. There's no need for that."

"STEVE, you're not leaving me any choice. If you refuse to talk to me and tell me what happened then I'll HAVE to call them."

Mike pulled out of Steve's grip and in that instant despite his pounding headache, Steve knew he had no choice but to confess unless he wanted a return trip to cubicle three.

Before Mike could open the door, Steve shouted desperately, his voice almost a pained whimper.

"ALRIGHT! " Alright I'll tell you but just please don't call them Mike ... Please ... Don't ..."

Mike turned and looked back down at his partner as the flashlight on the floor barely illuminated the bathroom and what was visible of Steve's face in the half light sent shivers down Mike's spine. He had never heard such heartrending emotion in his partner's voice before and it had the desired effect of stopping him where he stood. He knelt back down and looked at Steve intently.

"OK, buddy boy. I'm listening. "

Steve couldn't look the older man straight in the eye. He stared down at the floor and mumbled reluctantly.

"I woke up not feeling very well ... " Steve paused briefly in order to compose himself better. As he mentioned waking up, the images of his parent's grave and the tortuous graveside scene flashed back through his mind and his whole body shuddered involuntarily at the memory. Mike saw the reaction and his detective intuition heightened. He decided Steve was going to need help unveiling this story so he helped out.

"When you said you weren't feeling well, did you feel like you were going to be sick?"

Steve nodded.

"OK, I guess the chocolate ice-cream wasn't such a good call after all, huh?"

"No ... Not really."

"Alright, so you came to the bathroom but why didn't you call me? Didn't you hear me tell you to call me if you needed me?"

Steve looked away embarrassed.

"Yeah, I heard you but ... I just didn't want to wake you. I'm sorry, ok?"

Mike frowned at the young man's profound stubbornness and then gently drew Steve's face back to look at him.

"Steve, it's not ok. I meant it. As far as I know, being sick after a bang on the head like you got is dangerous. I really think we should call the hospital to check with them"

In a very quiet, subdued tone Steve murmured.

"It wasn't the bang on the head that made me sick Mike ... I ... I had more flashbacks ... "

Mike looked sympathetically at Steve and things became a little clearer. That would explain how shook up he seemed to be. And to make him physically sick, the flashbacks must have been very unpleasant which would explain his reluctance to talk about it.

"In your sleep?"

Steve nodded.

"Were they still about the funeral in the Church?" Mike asked very cautiously.

Steve didn't answer for several seconds, then he spoke and Mike didn't like the level of angst he heard in Steve's voice.

"No ... Not this time. I was at ... the ... cemetery. "

Mike took an audible deep breath as he heard Steve's words and couldn't hide the shock and concern from his voice.

"The cemetery? You were at the cemetery for your parent's funeral? Steve, you were only five. That was no place for you to be then."

Steve looked away again down at the floor. He stared at the large circle of light the flashlight produced and knew Mike was right but he didn't want Mike to judge his Grandfather harshly so he found himself defending him.

"He kept me at the back Mike. I wasn't meant to see much. "

Mike knew that Steve was concerned about what he had just said and knowing how much Steve adored and idolized his Grandfather he quickly spoke to allay his fears.

"OK now. I guess I can't blame your Grandfather. After you had collapsed in the Church, he probably wanted to keep you with him so he could keep a close eye on you. But you said that you weren't meant to see much so ... I ... I take it you did see more than you were supposed to, huh?"

As Mike asked, he placed a hand on Steve's arm and Steve saw the caskets again in his mind being lowered into the grave and the fear and shock filled him again as if he were back there in the moment. He felt the pain in his chest and the lump constricting his throat and he could feel himself shaking harder. His headache pulsed and throbbed and he felt his stomach start to churn again. Fearing that if he dwelt on it any further he would make himself sick again he looked at Mike and spoke defiantly.

"Mike, I don't want to talk about it ... please ... "

Mike had watched Steve's reaction to his question with great alarm. He had seen a tortured expression on his face and from where his hand was still resting on the young man's arm he felt Steve shake more violently. He shuddered to even contemplate what he was thinking about and wasn't surprised when he refused to answer. Deciding that in the state Steve was currently in, pushing him to open up might just make things worse, he decided to concentrate on getting the young man off the bathroom floor instead and back to bed. Squeezing Steve's arm soothingly he spoke compassionately.

"OK Steve. That's alright. Why don't we just leave it for now and get you off this cold floor and back to bed. How about that? "

Mike didn't expect the strong reaction that followed. Steve pulled away slightly and wrapped his arms around his knees almost in a protective childlike pose and stammered defiantly.

"NO ... Mike, I don't want to go back to sleep just yet ... "

"Ok, ok, take it easy will you? You don't have to go back to sleep if you don't want to but at least get back into bed. That way at least you'll be resting and you'll be warmer. Come on buddy boy. That makes sense doesn't it?"

Steve calmed a little and nodded but just as he did the light came on overhead as the power was restored and the bright light intensified his headache and he screwed his eyes tight against the sudden brightness.

Mike was pleased that the power was back and so hadn't noticed Steve's pained reaction.

"Thank God, finally the power's back on," he exclaimed but then looking back at Steve he saw his distress.

"Steve? What's wrong? Is your headache back?"

"Yeah ... My head feels like it's splitting open." Steve groaned painfully, sinking his head back down into his arms again to block the strong light from torturing him further.

"OK, come on. Let's get you up and out of here and back to bed and you can take those painkillers I left you. "

Mike stood up and reaching down he grabbed Steve's arms but Steve never budged. Trying to lighten the mood, he patted the top of Steve's head lightly and affectionately and spoke humorously.

"Steve, you're a little too big for me to carry. You're going to have to help me out here. Come on. Up you come."

Steve forced a half smile and then attempted to stand up. He had been sitting in the one position on the hard bathroom tiles for so long his legs were cramped and it took two attempts and a hefty pull from Mike to get him upright again. He kept his bandaged hand over his eyes to shut out the light and Mike put an arm around his waist and steered him once more back to the spare bedroom on the left. Steve's headache was such that he had kept his eyes closed the whole way, feeling the wall with his left hand instead, allowing the older man to guide him back to bed.

As they entered the spare room, Steve remembered almost falling over his bag on his way out earlier and alerted Mike in an urgent tone.

"Mike, watch my bag. It's on the floor by the bed."

Mike saw the bag just in time thanks to Steve's warning and pushed it with his foot sideways up against the bedside locker. Then as Steve reached out and felt the bed he went to sit down but Mike pulled him back.

"Ah, ah! Not this time. This time you're getting under the covers buddy boy. Just stand there for a minute and don't move. "

Steve swayed slightly as Mike let him go and he grabbed for the bedside locker and steadied himself, finally opening his eyes now that they were in a darkened room again. He watched as Mike folded down the covers carefully and then turned to help him into bed.

"It's ok Mike. I can get in myself. It's just a bad headache. I haven't lost the use of my arms and legs, thankfully." he muttered as Mike's fussing started to rake on him again due to the pain he was in and the grief he was still struggling to rebury.

Mike stood aside and gestured his hand for the young man to go ahead.

"Well, considering how long you were sitting on that hard floor, I must admit to being surprised that you still have the use of your legs and the way you struggled to stand up back there you certainly could have fooled me. "

As Steve sat heavily down he scowled at Mike's come back but couldn't refute it either so he stayed quiet.

"Before you lie down, here take these pills. They'll ease that pain and make you a little less grouchy hopefully. "

Another scowl crossed Steve's face as he took the pills and the glass of water from Mike and he answered even more grumpily.

"I am NOT grouchy "

Steve's tone betrayed his words and he saw a grin break out on Mike's face.

"You're not huh?"

Steve looked embarrassed and his scowl faded as he threw the pills into his mouth and washed them down with the water. Then looking remorseful he spoke in an apologetic tone.

"OK, you're right. I was grouchy. I'm sorry. It's just ... I ... Oh man!"

Steve once more held his head as it throbbed and thumped agonizingly and Mike closed in and took charge of the situation.

"Ok, that's alright. I know. Don't worry about it now. Just lie down and get comfortable and let those meds kick in."

Steve lay down and Mike swung his partner's legs up onto the bed. Steve immediately turned onto his stomach, once more almost burying his head sideways into the pillow and his left hand came up over his pillow to rest over his eyes. Mike reached over and pulled the covers up over him tucking them up around his upper back. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on Steve's back.

"I know you're only grouchy because you're in pain and exhausted and ... and because you're bottling things up again Steve. Now I know you don't want to talk about it and I also know it must have been pretty bad to make you feel sick but burying it isn't the answer either and I think you know that buddy boy."

Steve didn't answer but Mike knew he was listening as he heard his breathing pattern change slightly. He waited for several seconds in silence to see would Steve take the bait he had left out there but he didn't. He reached out to turn the lamp on but the hand that had been over Steve's eyes shot out and stopped him. In a disturbing and upset voice, Steve stammered.

"Mike, leave it off will you please?"

"Ok ... if that's what you want. " Mike replied still feeling somewhat apprehensive. The room was dark but the light from the bathroom was lighting up some of the landing and the residue light was streaming in a little through the spare room door just enough that Mike could see that Steve's eyes were open but not enough to judge his expression very well.

Mike began to think that maybe he would be better off leaving Steve alone for a while for the pain killers to work but as he went to get up, Steve's voice shattered the silence once more.

"I saw them putting ... the caskets ... into the grave. I don't have many memories of my parents Mike but ... I do remember that my mother didn't like the dark. I remember thinking that she wouldn't like it in the grave because it was so dark and I guess I ... I kind of freaked out."

Mike swallowed hard and fought the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him as he pictured the five year old from the photographs in his mind and the heart wrenching scene that everyone must have witnessed at the cemetery that day. He patted Steve's back soothingly and asked quietly.

"What did you do?"

"I ... I raced towards the grave. I had to ... stop them. "

"Stop who Steve?"

"The grave diggers. They were ... shoveling dirt on on top of them and ... I ... I wanted them to stop."

Steve's words were almost mumbled into his pillow and Mike had to strain to hear them but when he did he had to hold back the gasp that threatened to leave his lips as Steve's nightmare unfolded before him.

"Did you ... stop them?"

"Sort of. They looked horrified ... They formed a line so I wouldn't get to the grave ... but ..."

Steve's voice broke and he stopped speaking for a few moments, the sharing of his misery proving a bit too much. Mike allowed him the minutes he needed to compose himself and then as he heard Steve's breathing settle again he very tentatively asked.

"Steve, did you ... get to the grave?"

"I got close enough ... but then my Grandfather grabbed me and ... pulled me away ... I had really awful nightmares for months afterwards where I ... I kept hearing her shouting for me to get her out of there ... In them I was clawing at the dirt with my bare hands but I ... I could never reach her Mike. No matter how hard I tried I could never reach her ... "

A very faint pain filled sob left Steve's lips as he finished his sentence and as his breathing grew more ragged, Mike's hand moved up to settle on the back of Steve's neck.

"Ok, ok, take it easy now buddy boy. I get the picture. Did your Grandfather know about your nightmares?"

Steve merely shook his head without answering.

"STEVE! Are you telling me you told nobody about them?"

"I ... I couldn't Mike ..."

"Steve, you should have told your Grandfather. He would have understood."

"NO, no you don't understand. Anytime I ... I mentioned them he just got upset so I ... I stopped talking about them to anyone. "

Things were becoming a lot clearer to Mike. Not only had he suffered trauma at an early age, he hadn't shared it with anyone either. He had carried it around like a time bomb inside just waiting for the right trigger to cause it to implode and the special anniversary combined with the visit to the Church had proved to be the final catalyst. Now he was struggling to deal with the aftermath and the pain and grief had been released stronger than ever. All the emotions that as a child would have been understood and accepted as normal and he would have been able to share openly he was now finding embarrassing and unable to show as a grown man and in holding them back he was only making the whole thing more difficult for himself to deal with. He had to let the emotions out. To grieve for them. To accept their loss so that he could move on unhindered by the traumatic memories and Mike had to give him the space to do that. As much as he wanted to be there for him and comfort him, Mike realized in that moment he was going to have to take a step back, however hard that might prove to be and then step back in afterwards to give support. With that realization accepted Mike knew what he had to do. He squeezed the back of Steve's neck gently as he felt the young man trembling and knew that it wasn't from the cold this time.

"Steve, now that the power's back on I'm going to go downstairs to make us some tea."

"No ... Mike, I don't feel like ... " Steve started to protest but Mike stopped him with a finger on his lips. In the half light he saw Steve watching him intently.

"Listen carefully now, I think we both could use some tea. You lie there and take it easy and let those painkillers kick in. I'll be downstairs for fifteen minutes at least. Do you understand me? You'll be on your own for that long ... " Mike paused for effect as he tried to convey the meaning of his actions to Steve, without spelling it out, through his facial expression instead.

He saw Steve at first look curiously at him and then as he seemed to realise what the older man was doing he looked away and spoke emotionally.

"Ok, Mike."

"Will you be ok for that long? Mike asked anxiously.

Steve merely nodded as he felt his throat constrict and knew his voice would betray him if he tried to speak and then he watched as the older man got up and went towards the door. Mike paused at the door and looked back as he did.

"If you need me before the fifteen minutes are up, just shout ok? "

Mike watched Steve's head nod a second time and then he slipped out of the room, closing the door over almost all the way behind him. He stood rooted to the spot just outside for several seconds until he heard Steve's tortured sobs and it took every ounce of willpower he had, not to go back in and comfort the young man. Knowing it was something Steve needed to do without an audience, he swallowed hard and forced his feet to make their way towards the stairs and down into the kitchen. He filled the kettle and put it on and then sat down heavily at the kitchen table and watched the kitchen clock as he waited anxiously for it to boil and for the fifteen minutes to pass by. He only hoped he was doing the right thing and that Steve would reap the benefit of his actions.

As the minutes ticked by and the kettle whistled, Mike got up and made two cups of tea, making sure Steve's was weak so that it wouldn't upset his already sick stomach. There were still eight minutes to go and Mike couldn't believe how slowly fifteen minutes could tick by. He started to pace the kitchen floor, his hand nervously rubbing his chin. He thought about the nightmare Steve had described and the memory of Helen's funeral came back to him. He remembered how tough it had been for him and Jeannie during the graveside prayers and how Jeannie had been only ten at the time. She had clung to him throughout the ceremony as if he had been her only life line and as she had sobbed bitterly, he had led her away long before the gravediggers arrived to do their job. His heart ached for Steve at such a young age to have witnessed what he had and to have kept it to himself for so long. He only hoped this would resolve it once and for all and give the young man closure. Two more minutes to go. He drummed his fingers nervously against the counter top as he waited impatiently to go back up and check on Steve. As the last seconds counted down, Mike didn't waste any time and picking up the two cups he almost sprinted out of the kitchen and up the stairs, spilling drops from the two cups along the way. He paused however outside the spare room and listened for a few seconds. There were no ominous sounds coming from inside, actually no sounds at all and so he rapped gently on the door to give Steve some notice and then pushed the door open with his elbow and went inside.

The room was still dark and Steve was still lying down as he was, not moving. Mike wondered if perhaps he had fallen back to sleep, exhausted by the emotional release but as he came slowly towards the bed and placed the two cups on the bedside locker, he looked down and saw Steve's eyes open as he stared at Mike gratefully.

"Fifteen minutes to the second, huh? You timed that tea making well. " Steve said light heartedly but his voice gave away his recent upset.

The only other visible sign was the handkerchief that was squished tightly into a ball in Steve's left hand.

"Well I always was a good timekeeper. You know that. "

Then sitting down beside his partner once more on the bed he placed a hand on his back.

"You ok? Look at me. You ok now? " Mike fussed, with anxiety dripping from every word.

To Mike's relief a visible natural smile could be seen on Steve's face in the light streaming in from the landing and his voice perked up a bit more.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok now. Thanks. I guess I needed that. " Steve admitted honestly but to save the young man's blushes, Mike answered firmly.

"What? Fifteen minutes rest? Yes, I think you needed it too. Now how about we sit you up and you drink some of this tea I made while it's still somewhat warm. Ok? "

Steve smiled at Mike's words and then being highly observant, a trait that always served him well in his profession, Mike noticed that the young man pushed the handkerchief under his pillow surreptitiously before turning over and shifting himself up into a sitting position and leaning his head back against the wall above the headboard. Mike reached to hand him the tea but stopped momentarily.

"Would it be alright now if we put the lamp on so we can both see what we're drinking? "

Steve hesitated, not sure what state he was going to appear in with the lamp on, but he nodded reluctantly all the same.

Mike switched on the lamp and handed Steve his tea. To his relief the hand that took it didn't appear to be shaking anymore and although Steve's eyes looked reddened and tired, he didn't look quite as bad as Mike had feared he would. Steve could see Mike studying him and blushed little and while holding the cup in one hand he used his other hand to straighten his bed tossed hair.

"I must look like something out of the Hammer house of Horror, huh?"

"No ... you don't look that bad. Although there is a small resemblance to Bela Lugosi now that you mention it but only in relation to the pale face you understand." Mike teased and Steve laughed.

"No, seriously, you look a damn sight better than you looked on the bathroom floor earlier. Did you warm up?"

"Yeah ... headache feels better too. I'm sorry for messing up your nights sleep Mike. Maybe I should have stayed at home tonight after all, huh?"

"Hey now. Don't say that. I asked you to stay remember? Besides,when you get to be my age you don't need as much sleep. Now stop apologizing and drink your tea."

Steve sipped thoughtfully at his tea and then stared into the cup for several seconds before addressing Mike somewhat nervously.

"Mike? Do you think I should say a few words at tomorrow's mass like Fr. Driscoll suggested?"

"That's entirely up to you buddy boy. But you don't have to, you know? Do you want to?"

Steve looked very thoughtful.

"I don't know Mike. Half of me feels that I ... well that I never got a chance to say things that I wanted them to know back then and that maybe this is my opportunity to put that right but ... my other half doesn't know if I'll be able to get through the mass as it is, let alone getting up to speak at it."

"That's tricky alright. My advice is to listen to which side you feel more strongly about and go with your gut instinct. You have good instincts buddy boy. You prove that to me every day we're at work. Trust them now. Listen to them and you won't go wrong. And if by the morning you feel you don't want to go through with the mass I'll ring Fr. Driscoll myself and cancel it and we'll just go to Modesto as planned, hows that?"

"You'd do that?"

"Absolutely! But think on it a little more first, ok? Just to make sure you make the right decision."

Steve looked a little easier and he smiled gratefully at Mike once more.

"Ok ... I will ..."

Then drinking some more of his tea, his smile seemed to fade and he grew serious again. Mike watched him closely and knew that something else was bugging him."

"What Steve? What else is chewing on you? Come on, out with it."

He shifted slightly and Mike noticed him tapping his cup nervously before he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Mike? Can I ... well can I ask you something that's well probably a little bit personal?"

Mike smiled as he drank a few mouthfuls from his own cup and then placed it back down on the locker.

"Sure buddy boy. Ask away."

"When Helen ... passed away. Did you ... Did you feel like ... Well what I'm trying to ask is ... if you ... "

Mike could see that Steve was struggling with the question and so urged him on.

"Come on buddy boy, that's alright, just spit it out."

Steve shifted and moved his legs under the covers uncomfortably and then took an audible deep breath, still not catching Mike's eye.

"Ok ... did you feel like ... like a part of you died with her?"

Mike's smile faded and he looked solemn. Steve worried that he had perhaps asked the wrong question and again the same fears he had, about discussing things with his Grandfather resurfaced and he quickly flustered.

"I'm sorry Mike. I shouldn't have asked that. Just forget I asked ok ... "

Mike patted his arm.

"Now relax and hold your horses will you? Your question was fine. You just didn't give me a chance to answer. Yes. Yes I suppose I did but ... Steve I think anyone who loses someone they really love and care about feels like that. It's only natural. " Then deciding to push the issue a little bit he asked back casually. "Is that how you felt twenty five years ago?"

"Yeah. I felt like ... like there was this large hole inside me. You know? But the truth is, I've never been able to fill it. How do you fill that gap Mike? "

"Oh I guess, a part of that gap always stays with you Steve. It stays as a reminder of what we've lost, what we miss, but some things do help to make it feel less painful, more bearable I suppose as time goes on."

"What things Mike? Because I ... I think I need a little help with that."

"Well, focusing on the people who are still around helps. I know having Jeannie around helped me and I'm sure having your Grandfather must have helped you a little, right? But the part that helped me the most was the memories Steve. Their memories will never leave you and I know they bring me comfort when I need them to. You need to fill that gap with your memories buddy boy."

"Ah! Well you see that's my problem. I don't have a lot of those and the ones I do have I can't be sure they're even real or imagined or just stories I was told or ... "

"Or what Steve?"

"Or the ones that give me nightmares."

"Well of course you have good memories. May I?" he asked pointing to Steve's bag and he watched as Steve nodded curiously.

Reaching down and unzipping Steve's hold all, he reached in and pulled out the old photo album. He heard Steve suck in a breath as he turned and showed the book to the young man.

"These are your memories Steve. Here in black and white. All full of smiles and laughter and happy times. These are what you fill that gap with Steve."

"How did you know I brought that?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Oh, lucky guess. I just thought you might" he said waving it for effect.

As Mike waved the album, a page fell out onto the bed and before Steve could grab it, Mike picked it up and saw a yellowed page of words in a child's handwriting. He took it up and began to read it much to Steve's horror.

"Mike, NO, don't read that! " Steve pleaded reaching forward to snatch it from his hand but the cup of tea balanced on his lap slowed him down and Mike whipped it away in time and continued reading it by the light of the lamp much to Steve's increasing embarrassment.

As Mike read the words on the page, a lump appeared in his throat and as he finished it he turned emotionally towards Steve and spoke shakily, moisture clearly visible in his eyes.

"Did you write this?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

Chapter 13

Steve had turned a deep shade of crimson and having settled the tea cup back on the locker he reached out and took the paper from Mike hastily and folding it carefully, he took up the album and placed it back inside it and closed it again. Flustering, he stammered strangely.

"You shouldn't have read that Mike. "

Mike was concerned that he had overstepped their friendship by reading something so obviously guarded by his young partner but something about the page had been very drawing to the older man and as he read, the words moved him so much that he felt he had to finish it. He watched as Steve wrung his hands nervously, the album balanced on his lap, and he never looked back towards Mike. Feeling somewhat guilty for invading the young man's privacy so blatantly, Mike spoke softly and apologetically.

"I'm sorry Steve. You're right. I shouldn't have read it. I don't know what I was thinking but it ... well it was beautiful Steve and you didn't answer me buddy boy. Did you write it?"

Steve looked increasingly uncomfortable and didn't answer for quite a while. He seemed annoyed and Mike couldn't figure out if he was annoyed with him for reading it or at himself for leaving it where it could be read. Mike waited patiently for Steve to settle a little and as he fingered the album subconsciously he finally nodded his head and spoke very quietly.

"Yeah ... I wrote it ... A long time ago now. "

Remembering how different the handwriting had been and definitely not fully recognizable as Steve's writing now, Mike pushed a little further.

"How old were you when you wrote it?"

Again Steve shifted in the bed and seemed uneasy with the topic of conversation but to his credit he did provide an answer.

"I don't remember exactly ... thirteen, fourteen maybe."

"It's a poem you wrote for your parents isn't it?"

Mike watched as Steve's face paled slightly and the hand that now held the album tightened around it subconsciously. Mike reached over and squeezed Steve's arm and spoke even more tentatively.

"Steve? "

Steve finally looked up and Mike could almost see the emotions changing on his face. He definitely didn't see annoyance anymore but instead he saw a brief look of emptiness in the young man's eyes and combined with the words he had just read, Mike's heart ached for the young man in front of him.

"Yeah ... Yeah it is. I ... I didn't have any other way to ... well to say what I needed to say to them so I wrote that ... It wasn't the same as saying it to them personally obviously but it helped me at the time."

Trying to alleviate the renewed tension between them Mike added.

"I had no idea you could write such beautiful poetry, Steve. Maybe you missed your calling. Huh buddy boy?"

At that sentence Steve blushed even more but at least he now seemed less annoyed. Shaking his head he stammered again dismissively.

"Nah, Mike. It was just a once off. It's not even that good. It was just something I felt that I needed to get down on paper, that's all."

"HEY, hey now, Don't be so self critical. Just because I don't read those highfalutin books of yours from the Times book review doesn't mean I can't recognize a good poem when I see one. It's beautiful Steve and ... well it got me right there." Mike added, gesturing towards his heart .

Steve stared at Mike dolefully for a few seconds unsure what to say next and then looked back down at his lap awkwardly.

"Steve, why didn't you want me to read it?"

Without looking back up, Steve mumbled nervously.

"Because ... because nobody else ever has, Mike ."

Mike looked stunned and then he reached out and gently pulled Steve's face up to look at him.

"You've never showed it to anybody?"

Steve shook his head, sadness filling his green eyes .

"Whyever not?"

"Because I wrote it just for me Mike. It wouldn't have the same meaning for anyone else."

"Are you kidding me buddy boy? That poem speaks to anyone whose ever lost anyone. Trust me on that and if you're looking for something to say at that mass in the morning then you just found it. You should read that poem for them Steve."

Before Mike could say anything else a look of horror crossed Steve's face and he protested vehemently.

"NO MIKE! I can't read that at the mass."

"Why not?"

"Because ... because it's too personal Mike and it's not appropriate ..."

"Oh now you're just making excuses buddy boy. If you're not sure it's appropriate then show it to Fr. Driscoll in the morning and see what he thinks."

Steve's face grew even more horrified at the thoughts of showing it to someone else.

"Mike! I can't show that to Fr. Driscoll. My hand writing back then was awful and the page is old and ..."

"Well I was able to read it wasn't I? And if that's all that's stopping you then wait just a minute ..."

Mike got up and hurried out of the room as Steve called out after him desperately.

"Aw Mike, forget it will you?"

But Mike didn't listen and returned seconds later with a notepad and pen .

"Here, write it out again on this and show it to Fr. Driscoll before the mass in the morning and if he agrees like me, which I'm in no doubt that he will, then you read it at the mass. It's the perfect way to share what you've always wanted to say to them and if you have something in front of you that you can read from, then you won't end up stumbling over your words. Trust me will you? It's PERFECT, I'm telling you."

Steve took the notepad and pen but still looked very unsure and troubled.

"I don't know Mike. I don't think I can read that out in front of everyone."

"Look just don't dismiss the idea huh? Think about it, ok? And then make your final decision on it in the morning. I really think it's a good idea buddy boy and I know you can't see it right now but I really believe reading that at the mass will help you put this whole trauma behind you and get some closure."

Steve remained thoughtful and slightly rattled at the thought of reading something so heart wrenching for him out in front of strangers. It had been a big enough shock that Mike had read it, let alone to read it out loud. He hadn't even read it himself for quite a while as the words had come from his heart and as such, they always upset him deeply, but he wasn't prepared to admit that to Mike just yet. Knowing that Mike felt strongly about what he should do, he decided to agree to think about it in order to get off the subject, but in his heart he really wasn't sure that he'd be able to do what Mike wanted.

"Ok, I'll think about it ..."

Then feeling like he needed to be alone and feeling suddenly drained and exhausted, he placed the notepad and pen over on the bedside locker and moved back down in the bed. Turning back over onto his stomach he spoke again wearily.

"Mike, I think I feel ready to go back to sleep now, if you don't mind? I'm ... really tired."

Mike could tell that him reading the poem had rattled Steve and was worried that he had upset him.

With a hand on the young man's back he spoke softly from his heart.

"Steve, have I upset you by reading that because if I have I ..."

"No ... no Mike you haven't. I'm just really tired that's all."

Mike gently patted Steve's back and could see in the young man's face how exhausted he looked.

"Ok Steve. Well ... it's just gone five fifteen am. The mass is at nine and to be there early we probably need to leave here at around eight twenty so that gives you a couple more hours sleep before you need to get up and get ready. "

"Mike? In case I sleep it out will you wake me at seven twenty please? I want to have a shower and clean up before we leave. "

"Sure ... no problem. "

There was a momentary awkward silence while Mike saw Steve struggling to ask something. He waited patiently until Steve's shaky voice broke the silence.

"Mike?... Do you think they ... they really would have liked the poem?"

Mike knew who the young man was referring to and answered truthfully.

"Yes Steve, I think they would have loved it and they would have been proud of you for writing it."

Steve half smiled at Mike on hearing his answer and Mike marveled at how much sadness a smile could hold. He went to get up but Steve grabbed his hand momentarily.

"Thanks Mike ... If I'd been back at my apartment I think I probably would have still been on the bathroom floor right now " Steve said nervously chuckling as he spoke.

Mike ruffled his partner's already tossed hair gently.

"Now THAT'S a bad habit that we have to get you out of" he teased, making Steve snigger a little more.

Mike noticed that Steve had the photo album still on the bed beside him, his left arm covering it protectively. Mike stood up and looked back down at it.

"Do you want me to put that back in your bag Steve?"

"No that's ok. I'll keep it here for now."

Mike wasn't sure why, but Steve's answer bothered him greatly and in that moment Mike realized that Steve had a long road ahead of him to fully free himself from the trauma and the hurt he had suffered as a child and just hoped that the mass tomorrow and the trip to visit their grave would at least go some way towards helping him. Reaching down, he settled the covers back up over his partner and then spoke curiously.

"Steve, if you don't mind me asking, and purely for curiosity's sake, do you always sleep on your stomach like that? Only ... you don't look very comfortable."

Steve mumbled a reply as his eyes closed and exhaustion crept up on him.

"No ... just the back of my head hurts ... that's all. It's easier ... on my stomach."

Mike smiled down at his sleepy sounding partner and leaned over to check Steve's dressing for signs of discharge or fresh blood of any kind. Seeing none he patted Steve's back one last time.

"Ok, get some more sleep now ... oh and Steve?"

"Hmmmm?" came the only response that Steve could muster.

"Sweet dreams this time, ok?"

Mike saw a faint grin cross Steve's face as he mumbled " I ... hope so ... You too."

Mike picked up the two teacups and heard Steve's breathing become slow and even and watched him for several seconds as he didn't move a muscle.

"Steve?" he whispered and on getting no reply, he was satisfied that the young man was back asleep and turning off the lamp, he left the room quietly, this time leaving the door fully open so he could listen out in case of anymore nightmares.

Unlike Steve, Mike felt wide awake and didn't feel as if he would be able to go back to sleep anytime soon so he made his way back downstairs, frowning as he noticed the few spots of spilt tea in various places as he went, from his hurried trip back upstairs earlier. He fetched a cloth and cleaned up and then returned to the kitchen where he washed the cups and laid out the breakfast things for the morning, hoping that he could get Steve to eat something before they left so he didn't have the added worry of another collapse during the mass due to the young man's lack of appetite.

After everything was set out, Mike remembered that he had an important phone call to make and so he picked up the phone and dialled the number. After a quick ten minute conversation he said goodbye to the person on the other end of the phone and hung up. Then turning off the light, he made his way back upstairs, stopping in the bathroom to pick up his dressing gown from where it had fallen off Steve's shoulders earlier and then stopping once more to look in on Steve before heading to his bedroom. He looked peaceful enough so Mike headed back to bed, setting his alarm clock for seven o'clock carefully first, but as he lay down in bed, sleep just wouldn't come. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering as it processed all the new things he had learned about Steve and his tragic childhood during the course of the last twenty four hours. His mind then remembered the poem, so heartfelt and beautifully written and he remembered how it had touched him and made him think of Helen too. With his mind racing and after he had tossed and turned several times, Mike sat up in frustration and turned on his bedside lamp and took up the book he was currently reading from his bedside locker. Opening it on the last page he had finished at, he started reading it in the hope of distracting his mind and making him sleepy and sitting up against the headboard, fourteen pages later is where he finally dozed off, the book discarded on his lap, as the rest of the early hours ticked by.

When the alarm went off an hour later, Mike woke with a start, his head jolting up and he instantly regretted his sleeping position. With an unmerciful crick in his neck Mike yelped painfully as he turned to switch off the alarm for fear of waking Steve too early. He went to get out of bed and the forgotten book slipped off the covers hitting him on the toe. He bit back another yell as he rubbed the injured foot with one hand and rubbed his painful neck muscles with the other. Hoping his luck so far this morning wasn't going to be indicative of the way the day was going to progress he pulled on his dressing gown and slippers and padded out onto the landing again.

He glanced into Steve's room on passing and was relieved to see he hadn't budged but the photo album must have fallen off the bed at some stage and was now lying open on the floor where it had fallen, the folded up poem once more dislodged from its hiding place and staring at Mike from just under the bed. He quietly slid into the room, careful not to make any noise and picked up the album on the page it was at. The pictures displayed were of a birthday party and the young Steve was blowing out three candles on the top of a homemade looking cake. He looked so happy and Mike couldn't help but grin at the head of wavy brown hair that he had, even back then. His parents stood on either side of him, seemingly engrossed in watching the child's every move and looked every bit the proud and happy parents that they were. Mike felt sad at how fate and life could take such cruel twists and closed the album, realizing in that moment why the photos brought such sadness as well as happiness to his young partner and also why he only took it out once a year to look at it. It was understandably too painful for him.

He bent down and picked up the yellowed paper and went to place it back where Steve had stowed it earlier but there was something about it ... something Mike couldn't explain and he had an overwhelming need to read it again. He stared at Steve, snoring slightly and knew if he caught him reading it a second time, he might not be as forgiving, but seeing Steve fast asleep, he decided to take the chance. He unfolded it carefully, afraid to make any sound in case it woke Steve and he was discovered. He had read it quickly the last time but this time he wanted to read it slower, to put himself in Steve's shoes as he wrote it and try to feel what he was feeling as he did. The words flowed and the emotion behind them was palpable. It wasn't a long poem, only seven short verses but it was so evocative and so heart rending that Mike felt his eyes water from the sentiment that dripped from every line. As he finished reading it, he folded it back up carefully and returned it to its rightful place between the photographs and then reaching over he lifted Steve's arm ever so gently and placed it back where it belonged and then turned and left the room as quietly as he had entered it.

Heading downstairs he made a fresh pot of coffee and only when he had savored his first cup of the day, did he feel human again. At seven twenty he went back up to wake Steve. The young man looked so peaceful that he almost felt guilty waking him but he had asked him specifically to, so he very lightly shook Steve's arm.

"Steve? Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead."

"Huh? ... What?" Steve murmured sleepily as he very slowly stirred against the pillows, his eyes still refusing to open just yet.

"It's seven twenty. You asked me to wake you remember?" Mike persisted and when he didn't stir any more, Mike walked around the bed and over to the window, pulling open the curtains and letting the bright morning sunshine stream in and light up the room.

As the light intensified, Steve pulled the blanket up over his head to block it out and groaned as he did.

'Aw Mike. That's too bright."

Mike chuckled and came back around to the bed again and tried prizing the blanket down but it was held firmly in Steve's grip.

"Come on now buddy boy, you have to wake up now. It's time to rise and shine and greet the day."

Steve finally let the older man dislodge the blanket and he sat up gingerly, wincing against the bright light, his eyes only half awake and his hair sticking up on one side where it had been buried into the pillow. Mike had to hold back a laugh at the sorry sight and instead sat down on the bed and spoke sympathetically .

"How are you feeling this morning, buddy boy?"

Steve rubbed at his tired eyes and grumbled honestly .

"Truthfully? Like death warmed up Mike ..."

Mike couldn't resist the temptation for a tease and replied semi-seriously.

"Well, you look great!"

Steve heard the sarcasm and realized that he must look a fright and much to Mike's relief he took the older man's tease in good humor and started to laugh.

"That good huh?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing a shower, a shave and a comb won't put right. " Mike said chuckling too.

"Yeah, I have to admit a shower sounds good right about now. "

"OK, you go and have your shower and I'll go down and get some breakfast for us ... and before you go saying you don't feel like any, you're not leaving this house until you've at least had a piece of toast young man. Is that clear?"

Steve rolled his eyes at Mike's insistent tone but begrudgingly accepted the conditions.

"OK Mike ... I'll try ... But could you please look at this cut first for me and see if it will be ok in the shower."

"Sure ... Turn around."

Steve turned and Mike gently removed the dressing. As he examined the cut under Steve's hair, Steve flinched.

"Well, I don't have to ask if it still smarts but it looks ok Steve. It's closed up and it doesn't look red or angry looking anymore. I think you'll get away with leaving the dressing off. Just don't get any soap near it. Here, let me see the knuckles while I'm at it."

Steve turned back around and Mike unwrapped Steve's right hand. Steve flinched a second time during that close examination too. The knuckles still looked a bit raw but not quite as bad as the previous evening.

"You can leave the dressing off them too but if you get soap on them they're going to sting like crazy so be careful."

"Yes Sir." Steve teased and then ducked, as Mike swatted at him playfully.

"Ok wise guy. I think you'll live. Have you ... decided about the mass? Are you going to go ahead with it?" Mike asked cautiously.

He watched as Steve looked thoughtfully for a few seconds and then sighed heavily.

"Yeah ... yeah I'll go ahead with it ... but Mike ... There's one thing that worries me."

"Only one?" Mike teased and nudged Steve again playfully causing another smile to break out on the young man's face.

"Very funny" Steve said smiling but then his facial expression changed and he looked at Mike earnestly. "No, seriously Mike ... "

Realizing the time for fun was over he patted Steve's right shoulder.

"Ok, I'm sorry buddy boy. No more messing. What are you worried about?"

"What if they play that song ... You know the one that was playing yesterday when I ... "

Before Steve could finish Mike interrupted.

"They won't ... so you can stop worrying, ok? "

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because ... because I asked Fr. Driscoll to make sure they didn't, that's why."

Steve looked momentarily stunned.

"You did? When?"

"Yesterday, on the steps of St. Pauls before we helped you over to the car."

Steve let out a relieved sigh.

"Does that make you feel better?"

"Yeah ... Thanks Mike."

"You're welcome. Now stop WORRYING, alright? I'm gonna be right beside you. It will be fine. Got it?"

"Ok ... "

"Good, now go shower and don't lock that bathroom door just in case. I'll be downstairs if you need anything." Mike said as he got up and left the room calling back as he did. "Oh and there are clean towels in the press on the landing."

Steve heard Mike head back downstairs and set about getting ready for his shower. Fifteen minutes later, Steve was showered and shaved and with a towel wrapped around his waist he headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Dressing and putting on the shirt and his good suit he went back to the bathroom to adjust his tie in the bathroom mirror and to comb his hair back into some semblance of normality. He glanced at his reflection and was pleased with the drastic transformation. _If only he could fix how he felt on the inside as easily,_ he thought to himself. Now that he was mostly ready and the time was racing by, he was starting to get nervous about the mass.

He tried to take his mind off the whole thing by cleaning up after himself and hanging up the wet towels and then bringing his belongings back into the spare room he folded the clothes and placed them back into his bag, catching sight of the photo album on the bed as he did. He picked it up and opening it, he took out the folded piece of paper and then put the album into his bag too. He sat down on the bed and with slightly trembling hands he unfolded it. He hadn't read it for a long time and felt himself getting anxious. He read the words slowly and his breath caught in his throat. He felt the same sadness he always felt looking at it and he quickly folded it again. _He couldn't even read it silently without getting upset let alone out loud to a church full of strange faces._ He went to put it back in the album but something stopped him. He didn't know what to do, so keeping his options open for now, he placed it carefully in his jacket pocket instead and then tore a page out of the notepad on the locker and placed that in with it too along with the pen. Then as his watch read seven fifty, he headed back downstairs to Mike.

Mike had made himself porridge and had skimmed through the morning newspaper front to back while he ate it and drank his coffee. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was seven forty five and there was still no sign of Steve arriving downstairs. He was starting to get worried and standing up he started pacing back and forth, debating with himself whether or not he should go up and check on him when he heard Steve coming down the stairs. Not wanting to look like he had been anxious, he headed for the coffee pot and started to pour Steve a coffee and to make some toast for the young man. Without turning around Mike spoke warmly.

"Sit yourself down buddy boy. Coffee and toast coming up. Did you manage upstairs ok? "

Steve stayed standing in the doorway of the kitchen nervously, as he waited for Mike to look around.

"Thanks, yeah I managed fine. Do I look better now?" he asked anxiously.

Mike glanced around and saw Steve all decked out in his suit and smiled broadly and then whistled playfully.

"Well look at you! You look very smart buddy boy. New suit?"

"Kind of yeah. It's the one I bought for Derek's wedding a few months back, remember?"

"That's right, your friend from college, yes I remember. Boy, I bet that set you back a pretty penny, huh?"

"You could say that ... " Steve smiled, but then looked suddenly worried. "You don't think it's too much do you? I mean I wasn't sure what to wear but I wanted to wear something good you know ... "

Mike smiled at Steve's flustering and walked over to calm him down. Placing a steadying hand on his right shoulder he spoke firmly.

"STEVE, you look terrific. I mean it. Now sit down, relax, drink some coffee and most importantly EAT something, ok? If you're going to dress so well, I better get my duff upstairs and shower and dress too. I can't have you showing me up now can I?"

Steve laughed and relaxed a little. He nodded as Mike headed out of the kitchen shouting back as he went.

"I won't be long and make sure you ... "

"... EAT! I got it Mike. I got it." Steve shouted back as he poured milk into his coffee and buttered a piece of toast reluctantly.

He knew Mike was right and that he was better off having something in his stomach but right now the butterflies that were in there didn't leave much room for anything else. He only hoped he could manage to keep down whatever he ate now for the duration of the mass. Sitting down at the table he drank some coffee and took a bite from the toast. He picked up the paper that Mike had discarded but found he couldn't concentrate on reading it. He found himself taking the poem out of his pocket and retrieving the notepaper and pen too, he pushed the toast plate to one side and started writing out the poem on it while he munched the toast and waited for Mike to return.


	14. Chapter 14

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: Sincere apologies for the extra long delay in posting this next update. I have to admit that the Berkeley Incident from earlier in the week really quietened my muse for several days. I guess it put things in perspective for me as I felt that here I am writing fictional stories based in San Francisco while a real life tragedy was unfolding there and families were suffering the terrible and incomprehensible loss of their young Irish sons and daughters. Young lives so tragically ended in the prime of their life. The fact that my story is named Gone but not Forgotten for me was even more poignant and I struggled to continue it. But I have finally managed to complete this penultimate chapter and I have decided to dedicate the poem about loss that I wrote myself for Steve in this story and which will finally be revealed in the next and final chapter, to those who lost their lives, those who were injured and are still fighting for their lives and all the friends and families who are suffering as a result of this heartbreaking tragedy. My thoughts and prayers are with them all at this sad time.**

Chapter 14

Steve finished rewriting the poem and folded the original one and popped it back carefully into his jacket pocket. He had managed to munch his way through one slice of toast begrudgingly and had taken a bite or two from the second piece but his cup of coffee sat going cold as he stared at the page in his hand and reread it quietly to himself. He was so engrossed in the words that he hadn't heard Mike coming back down the stairs and as he felt a lump in his throat and thought about all the years he had pined and grieved for the two people who had been so tragically taken from him, a stray tear once more escaped and cascaded down his left cheek.

Mike arrived at the kitchen door and had been about to speak when he saw Steve hunched over at the table, his shoulders sagged forward as if they bore the weight of the world upon them. He was staring at something and seemed upset and Mike walked in solemnly still unnoticed by the young man at the table. He came behind Steve and glanced over his shoulder and seeing the rewritten poem in Steve's hand, he knew what was causing his partner's sadness. Not realizing that Steve hadn't heard him come back down the stairs, he placed a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"You ok?"

Steve felt the sudden hand and voice and jumped with shock, his heart pounding as he turned and saw the older man unexpectedly behind him.

"AH! ... " he yelped, his breath coming in gasps as he tried to compose himself and wiped at his left cheek hurriedly.

"Oh Steve ... I'm sorry ... I thought you would have heard me on the stairs. I didn't mean to startle you like that. Are you ok? "

"No, I ... I never heard you ... " Steve mumbled embarrassingly, failing miserably to get his already jangled nerves steady again. "Dear God Mike. You scared the living daylights out of me. Please don't sneak up on me like that again ... especially not today."

Steve leaned forward with his elbows on the table, almost subconsciously blocking the newly written page from Mike's view. He had one hand over his mouth in the same nervous gesture Mike often observed him doing and the other hand was over his heart, feeling it thumping madly from the sudden shock he had just gotten while he tried to get his breathing to settle back down. Mike cursed himself for not alerting the young man to his presence sooner. He should have known that being as distracted as he was by the anniversary today and by reading that poem that Steve would have needed a little more notice as to his arrival into the kitchen and he came around beside the young man and placed a steadying hand on his right shoulder.

"I know ... I'm sorry ... Boy, I really spooked you, didn't I?" Mike asked with concern in his voice as he saw the extreme toll his sudden appearance had caused to his young partner.

Steve took several tortuous seconds to gradually calm himself down and then forced a smile in Mike's direction as he saw the visible concern on the older man's face. Although his hands were still trembling slightly, his breathing was slower and his heart wasn't threatening to explode from his chest anymore thankfully.

"I'm ok now ... I ... I just hadn't heard you that's all. I guess I'm easily spooked today, huh?"

Mike didn't answer but still looked annoyed with himself for causing such a reaction in the first place. He was studying Steve unnervingly trying to assess him to see if he was truly ok or if he was just saying he was to alleviate Mike's worry.

"Look at me now. You sure you're ok? I don't know what I was thinking. Forgive me buddy boy. It was a careless thing to do ... I should have known better ... "

"HEY, stop that. I'm FINE. It wasn't all your fault. I was ... well I was a little distracted ... "

Mike looked at the page on the table, half covered by Steve's left arm and Steve's face blushed a little when he noticed his partner looking at it.

"I could see that ... I think that's why I wasn't thinking straight myself. I see you wrote it out again. Does that mean you've ... decided to read it at the mass?"

Steve looked uncomfortable and he visibly fidgeted on his chair.

"No. I don't know yet. But I ... I just wanted to keep my options open. "

Then as if indicating that he didn't wish to discuss it any further, he folded the newly written page up hastily and unlike the loving care he had shown the original page, he shoved the copy unceremoniously into his pocket. Then turning his attention back to the older man, he only then noticed how well Mike had dressed too for the occasion and smiled widely.

"Well you look pretty smart yourself Mike. Is that a new suit too?"

"No, I just don't wear this one very often, but you set a high standard today so I decided I had to rise to the challenge buddy boy." he said lightheartedly, trying to dispel and quiet the waves of anxiety that were palpably emanating from the young man at the table.

Steve smiled again very briefly but Mike's attempt at humor hadn't worked as in an extremely nervous tone Steve uttered.

"Is it time to leave yet?" and he started to stand up, still way more nervously than he would have liked to appear.

Mike, his hand still in place on Steve's right shoulder used the position successfully to push Steve gently back down into his seat.

"No, we still have ten minutes or so before we have to leave. Relax, will you buddy boy? "

Steve swallowed hard and looked back down at the table, not expressing it verbally but his thoughts were screaming the answer that he would not be able to completely relax again until the anniversary was fully behind him, or more to the point when the mass was over at the very least. Mike seemed to read his thoughts and decided to veer off the subject for now, although not to one that Steve felt any more comfortable with.

"Is that all you managed to eat?" he said pointing at the piece of toast with two small bites taken from it on the table.

Steve's nerves and emotions were getting the better of him and he took Mike's innocent enough question for a rebuke.

"NO, I ate a whole piece as well just like you ordered me to!"

Mike looked momentarily stunned by the depth of annoyance in Steve's answer and looked quizzically at the young man, but again in his heightened sense of angst and still rattled from being surprised earlier, Steve took the look as one of disbelief.

"WHAT? You don't believe me? What do I have to do to prove it to you, huh? Give you an x-ray of my stomach?"

As soon as the words left his lips he realized he was well out of order and Steve flustered apologetically as he buried his head in his hands.

"Oh God, I'm sorry Mike. That was a stupid thing to say. I don't even know why I said it. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Mike squeezed his shoulder as a show of support and pulling his chair closer he spoke firmly.

"That's alright. You're just uptight that's all and understandably so. Look at me now. We need to talk."

Steve didn't like Mike's last sentence and although he lifted his head, his face remained buried in his hands, the glaring red knuckles facing him not making the situation anymore comfortable for the older man as he saw the evidence of the last time frustration had reached boiling point in his young partner. Speaking in a lower, more soothing tone, he coaxed Steve persuasively.

"Come on, look at me now please, will you?"

Steve dropped his hands and looked reluctantly at Mike, his eyes giving away the level of torment and upset that was raging within him. Mike reached up to clasp the back of his neck and he spoke with purpose.

"Steve, while I was getting ready I was thinking and ... "

For reasons he didn't fully understand, Steve didn't want to hear what was coming next and so he tried humor as a distracting tactic. With a false humorous voice and smile on his face, he interrupted.

"Oi, yoi, yoi, he's THINKING. Look out."

Mike shook the back of his neck gently and effectively silenced him in doing so, his smile fading and his bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

"STEVE. Listen now. I know what you're trying to do but that fake smile of yours won't work this time. Now what I have to say is important, ok?"

Steve looked suitably chastised and accepted his fate, nodding his head and waiting anxiously for whatever Mike was going to say next.

"Now let me finish and don't interrupt, please buddy boy. Like I said I was thinking and ... well it seems to me that despite the fact that this is your special anniversary, other than the trip to Modesto, I've railroaded you into a lot of plans today that you're not entirely comfortable with. "

" No, Mike ... " Steve began but Mike silenced him again with a simple hand gesture.

"Steve, please let me finish. Now I know you weren't keen on having the mass said and you don't fool me you know? I know you go along with a lot of my crazy ideas just to keep me happy and well Steve, that's not what I want. Whatever happens today has to be your choice not mine and if reading that poem at mass is that distressing for you then you shouldn't feel you have to read it, just because I think it's a good idea. Now I want you to be brutally honest with me right now and if I have to get a bible in here for you to swear on, I will. " Mike added for humorous effect. " Tell me how you really feel about this mass please and I won't be mad or upset with you no matter what you say, alright? Now come on, spill."

Steve looked straight at Mike at first and let his words sink in. Then dropping his head momentarily he seemed to be considering his next words a little too carefully for Mike's liking.

"Steve, don't pick your words with me now. I want to hear from your heart, straight up, no frills, no saving my feelings. The truth, buddy boy, plain and simple. Got it?"

Steve looked back up and nodded dolefully.

"OK Mike. Truthfully ... I wouldn't have chosen to have a mass said. But purely because my experiences in the church aren't exactly pleasant ones and my gut instincts were telling me it wasn't a good idea and I guess what happened yesterday proved that my gut was right to be worried and yes, I did go along with it purely because you wanted me to ... "

Mike looked down remorsefully at those words so Steve reached out and grabbed his arm to regain his attention.

"... BUT ... that being said, I envy the fact that you ... that you find so much peace in the church Mike and I really wish that I had a place like that, where I could feel the same peace you do ... "

Mike liked where Steve's words were heading and appreciated the young man's honesty and how difficult these words were for him to say, so he interjected amusingly to lighten the palpable tension in his partner's voice.

"You mean other than the bathroom floor?"

Steve stopped and chuckled at that question and continued in a more easy tone, Mike's humor having its desired effect.

"Yeah, other than the bathroom floor. So what I'm trying to say ... and very badly I might add ... is that while I wasn't keen on the idea at first I think you're right and that if I can get through the mass and manage to stay together enough to read out the poem ... that maybe, just maybe I'll feel a little better about everything."

Mike squeezed the back of Steve's neck affectionately but didn't speak. An overwhelming sense of pride had swelled up inside him at Steve's heartfelt and brave words and it caught the older man by surprise. Tears welled up in his eyes and his voice failed him for several seconds as he clasped his mouth emotionally to hide his quivering lips. When Steve saw Mike's reaction and the tears glistening in his striking blue eyes, he panicked slightly not meaning to upset the older man by his words. He squeezed the arm he was holding and spoke urgently.

"Aw Mike. Come on. Don't do that. I'm sorry. See, this is why I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to upset you. "

Steve's guilt ridden voice spurred Mike to speak but he didn't relinquish the hold on his partner's neck.

"No, I'm not upset because of what you said ... I'm ... I'm PROUD of you buddy boy. Really, really proud."

Mike's words hit home and Steve found his own emotions starting to fray. As his own voice started to falter, he quickly cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, trying to distance himself from his wavering emotions.

"Stop Mike please or else you're going to start me off again, alright? And besides ... I'm the one whose supposed to be emotionally unstable today, remember? You're supposed to be the strong one who gets me through this day, still standing preferably without resorting to sitting on anymore floors, ok?"

Mike swallowed back the emotion and smiled warmly at the young man, pulling himself back together.

"Yes, you're absolutely right. Don't worry. Just a temporary glitch. Normal service resumes from now buddy boy." Mike said patting Steve's right shoulder.

Steve then checked his watch and announced bravely and determinedly.

"OK, it's eight fifteen. We need to think about going. You ready?"

Mike beamed proudly and let go of Steve and stood up with an equal amount of determination to do whatever was needed to get the young man painlessly through the rest of the day ahead.

"Yes, I think so. Just let me throw these things into the sink first and we'll get going. "

Mike started to clear the dirty dishes and Steve's coffee cup from the table when he saw the coffee cup was practically untouched. Instead of remonstrating this time, he merely glanced at Steve curiously and Steve smiled.

"I think I'm edgy enough this morning, don't you?"

Mike chuckled and answered lightheartedly, finally feeling more confident that Steve was on the road to acceptance and to coping better with his trauma.

"Yes, I think that was a good call buddy boy. OK. Let's go."

The two men headed out into the hall and as Mike put on his overcoat and fedora, he turned to look at Steve and after adjusting his collar, he grabbed Steve's coat and handed it to him.

"I don't think I need it Mike. "

"Are you kidding me? Do you seriously expect me to lie to Jeannie when she asks if you took your warm jacket to the graveyard? Surely you know she can see through my lies a mile off, buddy boy. Take it, will you please?"

Steve thought about Jeannie and knew Mike was right. It would probably be the first thing she would ask the older man so he chuckled and said lightly.

"Ok, I'll throw it into the car for later. "

Mike smiled back and then remembered something.

"Oh Steve, did you take painkillers this morning?"

"No, not since that time early this morning but it's ok for now Mike. I don't need them."

Steve was shuffling nervously where he stood in the hall and checking his watch again, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair absent-mindedly.

"Better to err on the safe side buddy boy. You might need them later. I'll go and bring some and a bottle of water just in case."

Then noticing that Steve was getting increasingly more anxious to leave, he handed him the car keys and spoke again.

"Why don't you go and wait in the car? I'll lock up and follow you down in just a minute."

Steve, took the keys gratefully and then cleared his throat as he apprehensively asked his next question.

"Mike, can I ... drive this morning? " Then seeing a very skeptical look cross Mike's face he added quickly. " Please. It will take my mind off things."

Steve's plea had sounded heartfelt and genuine and melted Mike's resolve.

"You sure you're up to it?"

"Absolutely. "

"Ok then. You can drive. I'll follow you down."

Steve's face lit up in a grateful smile as he nodded and turned and headed outside, down the steps and over to the car. Getting in the driver's side, he settled himself behind the wheel. Even though he had only been forced to sit in the passenger seat for one day, he had really missed being allowed to drive. He put the key in the ignition and placed both hands on the wheel, as if he was savoring being back in his rightful place. He hunched down and looked up at the house but there was no sign of Mike yet. He drummed his fingers on the wheel and felt his nerves starting to fray. He checked his watch. Eight twenty-five. " _Come on Mike. Come on "_ he muttered to himself. He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror and frowned. Mike had been right. He was very pale looking this morning. He fixed a stray hair that had come out of place and checked his watch again. Eight twenty-six. He scowled and hunched down again and was relieved to see Mike heading down the steps towards him.

No sooner had Mike sat into the passenger seat and barely closed the door, when Steve drove off at top speed.

"HEY, hey hotshot. Slow it down, will you?" Mike said grabbing the roof with his right hand as they sped along. "I'd like us to get to the mass in one piece if you don't mind."

"I'm sorry Mike. " Steve said taking his foot off the accelerator slightly and slowing down just a fraction. "I just don't want to be late, that's all."

Mike stared across at his partner and felt the nervous tension that was emanating from the young man.

"Are you kidding me? With the way you drive and the amount of shortcuts you know, there's no chance of that. Please, try to relax will you? We'll get there in plenty of time, ok? "

Steve nodded unconvincingly without taking his eyes off the road. He was trying to relax but he wasn't managing it very well and the closer they got to St. Pauls, the more his nerves were wearing thin. Mike was right and as Steve expertly weaved the car through the morning traffic and took several side street shortcuts, they pulled up across the street from the church at eight forty-two am. Steve switched off the engine and pocketed the key. As he did, he felt the notepaper with the poem rewritten on it and took it out and sat staring at it forlornly. Mike went to exit the car but stopped as he saw what his partner was looking at.

"Steve? You ok? "

"Yeah ... " he answered in a raspy voice that gave away the underlying truth. "Mike, I'm just not sure about this poem ... Maybe it isn't that important that I read it ... "

Mike reached out and pulled Steve's face sideways to look at him.

"Steve, you can fool lots of people but not me. Now you've kept that poem for the last seventeen years and you've kept it in with their photographs, guarded in a safe place. I think it's VERY important to you and that's why I think it IS important that you read it. Those words have stayed hidden for too long, buddy boy. Locked up in that broken heart of yours. You need to read them out loud so you can give them meaning. Steve, you laid your parents to rest twenty five years ago in that cemetery but today in this mass you need to lay them to rest in here and in here." Mike said tapping Steve's temple and then his chest over his heart, gently. "You've never really let them go fully. Have you Steve?"

Steve fought to control his emotions and still staring at Mike he shook his head sadly.

"No ... I guess not. "

Mike patted Steve's arm.

"You have to Steve. No matter how painful it is. It's what they'd want, buddy boy. Let them rest in peace and live your life without constantly blaming yourself for something you had no control over. I'm not telling you to forget them. I'm saying remember them fondly, without torturing yourself that it could have been different. Now when you're ready, we'll go in."

Steve took a few more steadying breaths but when he spoke his voice still stammered a little.

"I know ... And you're right. Ok, I ... I think I can do this. "

He pocketed the poem again and turned to exit but Mike's hand stopped him and he turned back around curiously.

"What?"

"That didn't sound very convincing."

Steve looked at Mike curiously at first and then smiled as best he could with his nerves acting up the way they were and summoning up every reserve of courage he had, he stated more firmly.

"I CAN DO THIS."

Mike smiled proudly.

"Now THAT'S more like it, buddy boy. Let's go. "

Both men exited the car and headed across the street and while Mike knew that Steve was desperately trying to put on a brave front for his sake, he could feel Steve's inner strength almost ebbing away as they climbed the many steps up to the church. When they reached the top, Steve held the door open for Mike and as the older man entered, he felt the growing unease of the young man behind him. As they crossed the porch and entered the main body of the church, Steve shivered, visibly rubbing his hands together, and whispered to Mike.

"Why is it always so cold in here?"

"It's the stone walls. It keeps the temperature cooler than outside. Personally I find it refreshing but I hope you wore your warm socks, buddy boy."

Steve looked blankly at Mike.

"What?"

Mike leaned over and whispered.

"For those cold feet of yours ..."

Steve smiled back, knowing that Mike was making it known that he was aware of his partner's fraying nerves and he swatted playfully at the older man while gently pushing him ahead of him down the middle aisle.

Mike led the way but half way up Steve stopped and the absence of his partner's footsteps behind him made him turn around. Steve was staring at two pews on the right hand side and he walked apprehensively back towards him.

"Steve? What's the matter? What are you looking at?"

Steve seemed lost in thought but jolted back to the present at Mike's question.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the Novack case. You scared the hell out of me when you passed out in my arms over there, remember?"

Mike wondered what made Steve think of that, but at the same time he decided it might be a good opportunity to distract and divert Steve's anxiety.

"Oh, I remember alright. You grabbed me instead of chasing after him and we lost him. That's what I remember."

"HEY... No fair. You always bring that up. You would have done exactly the same thing if it was me passing out and you know it. So that's the thanks I get for stopping you hitting the floor, huh? And besides, I found him again at Mount Davidson. Well didn't I?"

Mike chuckled heartily at Steve's rant, knowing his diversionary tactics had worked for now and putting an arm around Steve's shoulders he led him away from those memories and back up the Church.

"Yes, yes you did to your credit. Now come on, let's go take our seats."

As they reached the front row, Mike let go of the young man and getting into the seat, he sat down but Steve pulled away from the older man and protested strongly, despite trying to keep his voice down in the Church.

"NO, no way Mike. We're not sitting up the front."

"Steve, that's where the people who are getting a mass said for someone usually sit ... "

"Mike, you're not listening. Now I'm sorry for being difficult but I'm NOT sitting in the front. "

"Ok, ok, have it your way. Well, where do you want to sit then? " Mike asked slightly exasperated but knowing at the same time that he needed to keep the young man appeased.

Steve looked around and then smiled. Crossing the front aisle, Steve walked down the far side and three rows back he sat into a pew conveniently situated beside the side door. Mike stood and followed him, shaking his head as he went.

"Right beside the door, huh? Now I hope you're not planning on bolting on me during this mass, are you?"

Steve smiled even wider, his face one huge cheeky grin.

"Like I said earlier Michael. I'm just keeping my options open that's all. "

"Very funny wise guy. OK, we'll sit here ... BUT ... I'm sitting on the outside to CONTROL your options buddy boy, so shift over. "

Steve sniggered quietly and moved over as Mike got in beside him and then knelt down and blessed himself to say a prayer. Not wanting to disturb Mike, Steve looked around nervously and tried to calm his frayed nerves. Subconsciously his foot tapped the kneeler repeatedly and Mike turned and stilled his nervous tapping with a hand on his knee.

"Steve, do you mind?"

Steve mouthed "sorry" and wrung his hands instead and stared in front of him trying to take his mind off things but then he noticed something strange. Tapping Mike's shoulder in his moment of curiosity, much to Mike's dismay, he asked tentatively.

"Mike? Wasn't there a statue right there in front of us yesterday? "

Mike flustered a little and cleared his throat but a nervous stutter still manifested itself in his reply.

"No ... No I don't think so. You ... you must be mistaken."

But Steve's detective intuition was in full swing and he persisted much to Mike's annoyance.

"No, I'm not mistaken. I remember it was one of the Saints. I was looking at it yesterday when you went with Fr. Driscoll into the Sacristy. I think it was Saint ... Joseph. YES! That was it. St. Joseph. Look you can see the mark where it used to stand. That's odd. Why would someone take it down? "

Mike flustered even more and blushed a little also.

"Maybe it's gone to be repainted or repaired ... Anyway how should I know?"

Steve had returned his gaze to Mike and noticed his nervous disposition. His last almost frustrated sounding question made Steve think and he stared at Mike in astonishment for several unnerving seconds before he started to chuckle.

"I don't believe it. I REALLY don't believe it."

"What?"

"You got Fr. Driscoll to take it down so it wouldn't creep me out, didn't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Why on earth would I ... would I do a thing like that? You can't just go moving statues around you know?"

But Steve was still chuckling. He could always tell when Mike was bending the truth and his defensiveness was a dead giveaway

"Mike? MIKE? You did, didn't you? I can tell. "

Mike's nervousness gave way to a faint smile and he eventually, after several nudges from Steve, confessed.

"Alright, alright. I may have been instrumental in St. Joseph getting a change of scenery for a while but he'll go back to his rightful place after the mass. I just didn't want any more reason for you to be ... well uneasy that's all. Especially as you have enough to contend with, what with reading that poem and the whole occasion. And Fr. Driscoll was very understanding and obliging about it as it happens. Ok? You have the truth. Are you happy now?"

Steve stared admiringly and gratefully at Mike and shook his head incredulously for several seconds at the depths Mike had gone to, to make this mass more bearable for him. He patted the older man's arm as a lump threatened to form in his throat.

"Thanks Mike." then he added playfully to lighten the conversation as he swallowed the lump back down."You know I've heard the expression to move mountains for those you care about but statues is a new one."

This made Mike chuckle and Steve joined in, which drew a disapproving look from the lady in the front row who shushed them quite disdainfully.

Mike looked embarrassed and quietened immediately, turning back to continue the prayers that Steve kept unintentionally interrupting.

Steve felt bad for causing the older man to get chastised for laughing in the Church and quietened too but that only made him think about the mass again and his worry returned. Without any warning, the organ started to play loudly and Steve startled, grabbing Mike's shoulder as he did.

"Steve, for heaven's sake! It's just Mrs. Power practicing. What's got into you?"

"Sorry Mike, I just wasn't expecting it to start up like that, that's all. I guess I'm a little on edge."

"On edge? Steve, you're wound tighter than a two dollar watch. Why don't you go and light a candle or something to calm yourself down?"

Steve settled his breathing after the sudden shock he had just got and then leaned and whispered at Mike.

"Are you kidding me? The way my hands are shaking after that, I'd probably end up burning the place down."

Mike frowned at the young man and returned to his prayers as a deep voice boomed from the Sacristy Door.

"Ah gentlemen. You're here nice and early I see."

Mike heard Steve sigh as he saw Fr. Driscoll approaching.

"Mike, Steve, Good morning to you. You both look very well today. How's the head Steve? Better I hope. I kept you in my prayers last night."

Fr. Driscoll shook both their hands warmly but his gaze never left Steve's face, who he could see was a little uneasy.

"Yeah, It feels better today. Thanks Father. "

"Well the music is picked and everything is prepared this end. You boys all set?"

Mike answered before Steve could say anything.

"Yes, all set. Except Steve here wants to run something by you before the mass. "

Steve scowled in Mike's direction not really wanting to show him the poem at all but feeling now thanks to Mike he had little other choice.

"Oh? Sure Steve. What is it you want to run by me?"

"Well it's ... just ... I ... You know it's really not ... "

Steve was stammering and struggling so Mike chimed in.

"What Steve is TRYING to say is that it's a poem he wrote for his parents when he was younger and he was considering reading it today at the mass. I thought it was beautiful Father but well ... I think the boy needs a second opinion."

Steve looked embarrassed at Mike's intervention and looked towards the floor instead of meeting the priest's gaze. Father Driscoll could see the discomfort on the young man's face and waited for a reaction from Steve.

"Well, SHOW the man, Steve. " Mike's exasperated voice once more intervened.

Steve fumbled in his pocket and retrieved the piece of paper and handed it to the priest dolefully.

Fr. Driscoll saw people starting to file into the church from the back for the mass and seeing one lady in particular, he used the opportunity to speak to Steve alone.

"Mike, there's Mary Carpenter. She asks me about you every time she chats to me. She was a very good friend of Helen's wasn't she? Why don't you go and say hi?"

Mike looked in the direction that the priest was pointing and smiled warmly.

"Well Good Lord, I haven't seen Mary for oh ... it must be about five years now. Will you excuse me for a minute Steve? I'll be right back."

Steve merely nodded and watched as Mike headed down the Church and then he looked back at Fr. Driscoll who was still staring unnervingly at him.

"He means well, you know. But sometimes when he feels he's right about something he can be a little pushy. Do you really want me to read this Steve because if you don't, that's ok? "

Steve realized in that instant that the priest had purposely distracted Mike so that he could ask him that question. He admired the priest's consideration and somehow felt easier about letting him read it.

"No, it's ok. I'd like you to read it, please Father."

Fr. Driscoll carefully unfolded the page and read it silently to himself. His face looked thoughtful and at times sad as he read it and when he finished he lowered the page and looked back up at Steve.

"You wrote this?"

Steve nodded but couldn't quite read from the priest's expression whether he liked it or had hated it. He waited anxiously for the priest's verdict and didn't have to wait long.

"Steve, this is really beautiful. Very moving. Now it's entirely up to you but I think this would be a fitting piece to read out at mass this morning and a fine tribute to your parents. "

He folded the letter and handed it back to Steve before adding cautiously.

"That piece you wrote is quite personal to you, isn't it? Do you feel ... able to read it out Steve?"

"I ... I think so. But I'm not really sure Father."

"Ok, well listen, I won't give a long sermon this morning. When I get to the end of it, I'll glance over at you. If you nod at me then I'll introduce you and you come on up to the pulpit on the left and read it. If you decide then that you don't want to, then shake your head instead and I'll simply carry on with the mass. But I honestly think the whole congregation would benefit from hearing it Steve. Is that plan ok with you?"

Steve nodded again, deeply appreciating the priest's understanding.

"OK, well I better go get ready. Time is flying by. I'll speak to you after the mass."

"OK, thank you Father. "

Fr. Driscoll smiled and patted Steve's shoulder and headed back towards the Sacristy. As Steve watched him go, Mike arrived back into the seat beside him.

"Sorry about that. I haven't seen that lady for years. Well, don't keep me in suspense. What did he say about it? "

Steve decided to string Mike along a little.

"What did he say about what? "

Steve skillfully ducked a swat sent in his direction.

"Wise guy! Well?"

Steve nervously chuckled.

"Ok, ok ... He liked it. "

"See, I told you he would. Didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, you did. "

Steve noticed that Mike seemed suddenly very distracted. He checked his watch and looked back down towards the front door. Steve followed his gaze and grew curious.

"Mike? You looking for someone?"

Mike flustered a little, turning Steve purposefully back around again.

"No ... no of course not. But I do come here often you know. I'm just seeing if I know anyone that's all."

But Steve grew more suspicious as Mike checked his watch and looked behind him again as if he was searching for someone in particular. Again he followed Mike's gaze and as a stray thought crossed Steve's mind, he felt himself panic and turning back around he spoke in an agitated tone, forgetting in the moment to speak quietly.

"Oh my God! You haven't told the guys back in Bryant Street to come along have you? MIKE? Tell me you haven't."

"Steve, keep your voice down." Mike scolded as the lady in the front row turned to scowl at them again and this time Steve blushed at his outburst and apologized for his loud voice. Mike then spoke quietly but firmly to allay Steve's fears.

"No, of course I DIDN'T. You really don't think I'd do that on you, do you?"

Steve looked suitably admonished.

"No, of course you wouldn't. I'm just a little jumpy that's all and you kept looking at the door and ... Sorry Mike. "

"That's alright. Look the mass should start at any minute. Try to relax will you, please?"

Steve settled back against the seat and nodded. The Church was far from full but there were still a good many people in attendance none the less. Most of them Steve observed were the more mature members as Fr. Driscoll had said they would be but that fact didn't make him feel any better. He felt his heart starting to race and the butterflies in his stomach had started fluttering wildly again as he watched the Sacristy door for the arrival of Father Driscoll and the start of the mass. He was so intent on his surveillance that he didn't notice Mike's stealthy look back at the door and the smile that lit up his face as he saw who came in. Smiling broadly as he watched the newcomer's hurried step up the middle aisle, he waited until the person was just about to enter their seat, before he distracted Steve. Tapping Steve's arm gently, he whispered.

"Steve?"

Steve turned as planned to look at Mike, as the mystery guest arrived almost beside him.

"What?"

"You might want to move up a little and make some room."

"Why?"

A familiar voice reached Steve's ears from behind, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Excuse me sir, is this seat taken?"

Steve looked at Mike in shock as he recognized the voice and wheeled around in his seat as his face lit up in a surprised smile.

"Surprise!" Mike whispered in his ear as Steve stammered incredulously.

"Oh my God. How on earth? How ... did you ... get here?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **A/N: Finally I have completed this story to my satisfaction and it hasn't been an easy task this week as life threw some curve balls at me but here it is. It ended up needing an epilogue after this chapter to put the final touches to it but I am posting it in full as a big and very heartfelt Thank you to all those who read and followed and reviewed this story and made it worthwhile. I lost some readers by pursuing this story sadly, as they felt I abandoned my other stories to write this one and I am very sorry about that but I am glad I got it written and posted all the same as I am quite proud of it and it has a special meaning for me and hopefully for the person who I wrote it for too. I hope you all enjoy the ending.**

Chapter 15

"Well aren't you happy to see me, Steve ?" she said feigning a hurt expression, but not proving able to hide her smile too long at the delight of seeing her father and Steve and being home in her beloved San Francisco again even if it was only for a short visit.

Steve reached out and grasped her hand in his and squeezed it gratefully.

"YES! Of course I am. But Jeannie ... how in God's name did you get here so early? "

"Well haven't you heard of the "red-eye" Steve? I took the very early morning flight from Phoenix and Mike arranged for someone to pick me up and drop me off here. Although the traffic was bad and I almost didn't make it on time. It was close."

Steve was still reeling from the surprise and wheeled around to look at Mike who threw his hands up in surrender.

"Don't look at me buddy boy. I told her about the mass but it was her idea to come. I ... well I just thought it was a good idea. I figured ... well that maybe a little extra support for you today wouldn't go amiss. "

Steve looked between them both back and forth incredulously and felt his eyes water slightly. He was deeply touched at the lengths the Stones had both gone to, in order to support him and be there for him and momentarily he found himself speechless.

"I ... I don't know what to say ..."

Mike could see how grateful the young man was but also saw the moisture in his eyes and didn't want to see the young man get too upset especially with the mass about to start and with the feeling in Mike's heart that this would be a difficult hour for him to sit through as it was, so he leaned over and whispered helpfully.

"Hello Jeannie might be a good start buddy boy."

Steve flustered, realizing in his shock that Mike was right and that he hadn't greeted her properly. Turning, he stood and gave her a hug.

"Hi Jeannie. Thanks for coming. I ... I really appreciate it. "

And then still grasping her hand momentarily he sat back down and pulled her back down to sit beside him, his eyes never leaving her face as he marveled at the journey she had undertaken just to be there for him. Jeannie let go of Steve's hand temporarily as she leaned across in front of Steve and hugged Mike tightly.

"Hi Daddy ..." she whispered in his ear, thrilled to be back home with her father and Steve for the weekend.

"Hi Sweetheart ... " he whispered back emotionally, his daughter's homecomings always a great source of joy and comfort to the older man. " Was your flight ok?"

"Yes, it was fine, thanks."

"And did Bill collect you on time like I asked him to?"

"Yes ... and he's gone to drop my suitcase home for me too. So stop worrying. Everything went according to plan."

Mike smiled, feeling that he could relax better and concentrate on helping Steve more now that Jeannie was here safe and sound. Jeannie then sat back down, just as the bell rang for to signal the start of the mass and as the organ played and the choir's voices started to sing, Fr. Driscoll resplendent in a long flowing green vestment processed out onto the altar behind two altar boys holding lit candles and took his place at the pulpit.

Mike nudged Steve to stand and all three stood attentively. The first hymn wasn't one that Steve recognized so it held no memories thankfully and it was lively enough and not too maudlin either which helped him keep his nerve. As he desperately focused on Fr. Driscoll standing at the pulpit waiting patiently for the hymn to finish, the two mahogany caskets were never far from his mind. He knew if he thought too much on it, he would see them again vividly in his mind's eye in front of the altar so he tried to focus on the beautiful flower arrangements on the altar instead and in fact anything that stopped him thinking too much. Subconsciously he shivered a little and as Jeannie noticed it, she grasped his right hand tightly, unaware of the injuries he had self inflicted the evening before on it and Steve winced visibly, biting back a yelp of pain as the reddened knuckles throbbed from the unexpected squeeze. Noting what had happened, Mike leaned behind Steve and whispered to his daughter.

"Jeannie, watch his hand ... He hurt it yesterday."

Jeannie blushed and released Steve's hand abruptly, as he rubbed it guardedly.

"OH! Sorry Steve ..." she whispered , horrified at the red looking knuckles that she had squeezed unintentionally but to her surprise he merely smiled and told her it was alright, feeling that it was a small price to pay to have them both standing there beside him.

Mike reached over in his usual protective manner and took his hand to examine it further but Steve pulled it back embarrassed by the sudden audience that provoked two rows back and stammered gratefully.

"It's fine Mike, really."

He further smiled as he felt Jeannie link his arm instead and squeeze his arm with the same comforting strength she had his hand, moments before.

The hymn ended and Fr. Driscoll began to speak.

"Good morning everybody and welcome to our Morning mass. Firstly I would like to thank God for getting us through the terrible thunderstorm we had last night. It really was quite a storm and thankfully the power was restored early this morning otherwise instead of using this microphone, you would have had to have listened to me yelling to be heard ... "

Small murmurs of polite laughter echoed around the Church at Fr. Driscoll's wry statement but Mike's eyes were firmly fixed on his partner who he could see was struggling a little in anticipation of what was to come. As the laughter subsided, Fr. Driscoll's face turned more serious and he continued.

"Now today's mass is a very special Anniversary mass for Richard and Elizabeth Keller. They were both very tragically taken from us twenty five years ago today ... "

As Steve heard his parents names he swallowed hard and felt his emotions threatening to surface but in that same moment he felt Mike's hand grip his left elbow tightly and felt Jeannie moving closer to him on the other side. Although his grief was unrelenting, something about the support on either side of him made it easier to bear and so he straightened himself up a little and forced himself to listen to the rest of Fr. Driscoll's words.

"... Now Richard and Elizabeth weren't parishioners here as such so most of you won't have known them. In actual fact they hailed from Modesto but their son Steve is resident in our parish and is a fine upstanding member of our fine police force. His partner at work, most of you know as Mike Stone, who is a regular here at our Church and the mass today was requested by Steve. Some of you might know Steve, although let's hope not in an official capacity ... "

Another ripple of amused laughter rippled through the body of the Church and even Steve couldn't resist a wry smile, appreciating the momentary humor to offset the sadness of the occasion.

"... Steve was only five years old when his parents were taken from him under very tragic circumstances ... "

Steve was aware of a wave of whispers and suppressed exclamations as that sentence was delivered and his smile quickly faded and he felt increasingly uncomfortable. In that moment he was glad that Mike had insisted on sitting at the edge as he fought an overwhelming desire to escape through the side door. Mike sensed his unease and leaning to his right he whispered in his ear.

"Hang in there, buddy boy ... "

Steve glanced at Mike briefly, wondering if he knew what thought had crossed his mind and tried to nod confidently at the older man but found he just didn't have it in him to and so instead he looked back around at the priest up at the pulpit.

"... And I think I speak for all of us here today when I say you have all our sympathies and condolences today Steve, on this their special Anniversary. "

Fr. Driscoll turned to look at Steve as he offered his condolences and Steve felt in that instant that everyone's eyes focused on him in the Church and he nodded gratefully at the priest, inwardly wishing the ground would proceed to open up and swallow him.

"Now, let's begin our mass ... "

Fr. Driscoll proceeded with the normal opening prayers as Steve dropped his head to stare at the floor, not really hearing the words the priest was uttering anymore as thoughts of his parents filled his tired mind and more long forgotten words from their funeral were dredged up and came back to haunt him. " _We offer our condolences to Richard's father Harry here with us today and to their young son Steve and we pray that God gives them both strength to get through this very difficult time ..."_ Once more he remembered the same wave of pity filled murmurs and saw the many pitying faces that stared at him as his Grandfather drew him closer as if trying to shield him from their stares.

Mike saw Steve's downward trance-like stare and feared the worst. Glancing over at Jeannie, he noticed she was watching Steve closely too, concern furrowed in her brow. In that instant, Mike and Jeannie's eyes met and they exchanged a worried glance between them. Mike squeezed Steve's elbow and leaning in, he whispered again.

"Steve?"

Steve didn't even register Mike's voice as he continued to remember his Grandfather's tweed coat that he had clung to almost for life itself that day and he remembered the faint scent of pipe tobacco that had wafted from the older man's pocket.

Mike shook Steve's elbow gently and spoke a fraction louder into his partner's ear.

"STEVE?"

Steve jolted out of his thoughts and snapped his attention back around to Mike, his breathing a little ragged and his face masked in confusion and the fear that he had missed something important due to zoning out temporarily. He flustered and adjusted his stance as he stammered slightly.

"Sorry ... What?"

Mike didn't have to ask any questions, as the look on Steve's face told him all he needed to know. Steve was having flashbacks again and he had really hoped that wouldn't happen again. He looked Steve straight in the eye and whispered again.

"You ok? "

Steve knew the older man was wise to what had caused his distraction and merely nodded unconvincingly before returning his attention to the front and to the altar where Fr. Driscoll was continuing mass.

The following twenty minutes went by a little smoother. The correct prayers were routinely said and the next hymn again held no dark memories for Steve but every time the organ started up, Mike could almost feel Steve tense up in fearful anticipation and consciously watched for signs that Steve was in difficulty. Steve's headache was beginning to return and the faint throbbing at the back of his skull was not helping his nervous disposition any. With Jeannie and Mike on either side of him, he felt supported and although he didn't remember the responses from the mass very well, their murmured responses were somehow soothing to him. Although he was anxious about getting up to read the poem, the rest of the mass was proving to not be as bad as he thought it would be and lulled him into a false sense of security. However that thought was soon to be his undoing.

As the mass moved along, Mike knew that the closer his poem reading loomed, the more anxious his partner would become and was ready to encourage and support where necessary but he hadn't expected what would happen next. As the Responsorial Psalm began, instead of the organ, a soloist's voice broke the pin drop silence and Steve almost held his breath. Having let down his guard, the lilting words of The Lord is my Shepherd projected from the choir loft and Steve was instantaneously transported back in time to his parent's graveside. It was the song they had sang as he had caught sight of the caskets being lowered. He fought the memory but it refused to be denied. He could feel his heart starting to race and his breathing quicken and as he suddenly felt weak at the knees, he grabbed the back of the seat in front to keep himself upright, his eyes closing as the flashback continued and his stomach started to churn.

Both Mike and Jeannie noticed the change. From where Mike stood watching the young man's side profile he could almost see the color drain from his already pale face until he practically looked white in the light streaming in from the circular stained glass window behind the altar. Jeannie grasped his right arm tighter and placing her other hand on his back she leaned in and whispered apprehensively.

"Steve? Are you alright? What's the matter?"

Steve didn't even hear her. All he could hear was that song and all he could see were the faces of those gravediggers blocking his view and he could almost feel the tight grip his Grandfather had around him as he had pulled him away. He felt suddenly claustrophobic, as if there wasn't enough air for him to breathe. The tie he was wearing felt like it was suddenly constricting his airway and as the bump at the back of his head pulsated and his nausea grew steadily, he knew he needed to go outside and quickly.

When Jeannie's questions got no response, Mike knew that things were taking a worrying turn. He felt Steve almost buckle and ironically grabbed him around the waist which only made his flashback feel more real unbeknownst to Mike.

"Steve? Talk to me now. What's going on with you?"

Mike's voice got through the fog and he turned, feeling a little dazed, towards the older man and managed to stammer quietly.

"That song ... They played it ... at the graveside ... Mike, let me past ... I ... I need to go outside ... "

Mike didn't like how Steve looked and feared that perhaps another collapse was imminent. A touch of fresh air was most definitely what Steve needed but Mike feared that if he got him outside he would have difficulty getting him to come back in so he decided to try and calm him down first instead.

"Steve, try to hold on. I know it's difficult, but try to focus on something else. The song will be over soon. Just try to breathe slower. "

Steve didn't want to let Mike down so he tried to do what he was asked. He tried to slow down his breathing but his lungs wouldn't cooperate. He felt like his tie was choking him and as the song continued, the altar started to tilt from side to side and bile started to rise in his throat as the anxiety attack took full control. He turned desperately to Mike and pleaded.

"Mike ... Please ... take me outside. I ... I feel sick."

On hearing those words, Mike knew he had little choice but to bring the young man out as he felt Steve getting weaker and heard him almost gasping for air. Holding him upright more firmly, he looked behind Steve at Jeannie who was watching the scene unfold in horror, unsure what she should do to help them both and he whispered urgently.

"Jeannie, he's not feeling very well. I'm going to bring him outside for some air ... "

"I'll come with you."

"No Jeannie. I need you to stay here and if Fr. Driscoll calls Steve up to read or is looking for him before I can get him back in, stall for us will you please? "

"Sure, ok. I'll try."

"Thanks Honey and don't worry now. He'll be fine. He just needs some air that's all. We'll be back in a few minutes."

With that, Mike heard Steve groan and so he hurriedly walked the young man out the side door, taking a good deal of his weight in the process as the instrumental part of the song still played behind them. Steve was glad that the congregation had been standing at the time so his distress and his removal had been sufficiently hidden by everyone except those who were seated directly around him however Fr. Driscoll had noticed their alarming exit from his raised position up at the altar and looked concerned by his sudden departure. He stopped mid prayer and suddenly beckoned one of the altar boys over to him. He whispered something unheard by the congregation, and they watched confused as the altar boy nodded and hurried off back into the Sacristy. Then returning to the microphone he apologized for the interruption and continued the prayers where he left off. Jeannie stayed staring at the side door, her thoughts firmly with her father and Steve and although she knew Steve couldn't be in safer hands, she had never seen Steve looking so vulnerable and shaken before and knew her worry wouldn't ease until they returned.

As Mike and Steve exited into the morning air, Steve gagged briefly and covered his mouth with his trembling right hand. Mike panicked and gripped him tighter.

"Hold on buddy boy. There's a bathroom around in the Sacristy. We'll go in through the back door."

He went to steer the young man around the corner towards the back of the church but Steve resisted.

"No ... no I'll be ok now that I'm out in the air. I just need ... a few minutes. "

"STEVE, you don't LOOK ok. I think we should go, just to be on the safe side."

"NO! It's alright Mike. Please ... " Steve pleaded and pulling out of Mike's grip he stumbled unsteadily behind him to sit down on the stone steps.

He was taking deep breaths of air and pulling at his tie uncomfortably, not making much progress with his trembling hands so Mike stepped forward and helped him loosen the tie and open the top button of his shirt. He really didn't like the ashen appearance of Steve's face and taking Steve's wrist he felt his pulse and was alarmed at how fast it was racing.

"Steve, you're breathing too fast. Try to slow it down."

Steve started taking shallower breaths but he was still very shaky. As Mike watched Steve closely, the altar boy from earlier appeared around the corner with a glass of cold water and addressed Mike.

"Excuse me Sir, but Fr. Driscoll asked me to bring this out to you."

"Oh man! " Mike heard Steve mumble as he realized that Fr. Driscoll had witnessed his departure much to his embarrassment and dropped his head into his hands

Mike placed a placating hand on Steve's shoulder and taking the glass of water he addressed the young boy beside him.

"Well, thank you son. That was very kind of you both. "

Then seeing the young boy looking anxiously at Steve, he answered reassuringly.

"Oh, don't you worry about him. He just found it a little stuffy in there. He'll be ok in a minute or two. You better head back in, but thanks again. "

The boy nodded and smiled and then turned and went back around the corner to return to the mass but before Mike could get Steve to drink some of the water, an elderly couple arrived out the side door much to Steve's dismay and he buried his face further into his hands in horror. The lady spoke to Mike first.

"We couldn't help noticing that the young man didn't look well. We were just two rows behind you. My husband is a retired Doctor. If you like, he could take a look at him for you?"

Another barely audible groan emanated from Steve as he heard the offer and knowing how much Steve would hate being fussed over by a stranger and in order to try and save the young man's blushes, Mike stood in front of Steve, blocking him mostly from their view and spoke in his normal easygoing but diplomatic tone.

"Well, you know it was really kind of you both to come and inquire about him but really he's fine. He had a nasty fall yesterday and banged his head and we got him all checked out down at San Francisco General but what with his head still being a little sore and not eating much breakfast this morning ... well he just came over a little dizzy, that's all. But with a little fresh air, he'll be right as rain. But thank you for your concern. We do appreciate it."

With that Mike put the drink of water down beside Steve and then placed a hand on both their shoulders and gently but purposefully steered them back inside. The lady was somewhat insistent and not that easily led.

"Are you sure? He really doesn't look very well ... "

"Oh yes Ma'am. I'm quite sure."

The man was also not that easily fooled and tried to look past Mike to no avail. He'd seen enough anxiety attacks in his time to know one when he saw one but the older man seemed to have everything under control and didn't seem to need their help so he took his wife's arm and led her back inside, realizing by the young man's protective actions that their presence would only do more harm than good.

"It's ok Annie. Mr. Stone here has everything under control. He knows where I am if he needs me. Come on back inside."

Mike caught the man's eye and nodded at him, appreciating his understanding and as they headed back inside, Mike hurried back to Steve. His breathing seemed easier but he was still uneasy and was now holding the back of his head instinctively.

"Is your head hurting again?"

Steve merely nodded so Mike retrieved two painkillers from his pocket and handed him two along with the glass of water.

"Here take these and drink some of this. "

Steve took the two pills and swallowed them down then looked apologetically at Mike.

"I'm sorry Mike ... I was ok until that song came on. Damn it Mike ... It was just a song."

He looked distraught and Mike grabbed the back of his neck to get his attention.

"Steve, all kind of things trigger bad memories for everyone. Songs, words, places. You don't have to be sorry for that. "

"Mike, I really thought I could do this but I can't... I can't go back in there ... I'm sorry ... "

This was what Mike had been afraid would happen. He felt sorry for the young man but also knew this moment needed some tough love. Steve had to deal with these feelings the hard way in order to stop them recurring. So squeezing Steve's neck he spoke firmly.

"NOW LISTEN TO ME. You looked me in the eye in the car when we arrived and you said "I CAN DO THIS!" and YOU CAN. I KNOW you can. Steve, I know things have been tough for you since yesterday and you feel overwhelmed by it all but I KNOW you. You're stronger than you think. I've seen you in many tough situations since we started working together and you always pull it together. Now that's all you have to do this time. If you don't get up there and read that poem then you're going to spend the rest of your life regretting that you didn't. And I don't want that to happen. You CAN do it Steve and you have to trust me on that. "

Steve seemed to be trying to process everything Mike had said. He was touched by the amount of faith Mike had in him but he was still unsure that he had what it would take to stand up in front of all those people and read the words Mike felt that he needed to.

"I don't know Mike ... I really don't know."

Mike's hand left the back of Steve's neck and he reached inside his coat pocket once more. He took something out and placed it in Steve's hand and curled the young man's fingers around it and spoke more emotionally than Steve expected.

"This will help you."

Steve uncurled his fingers and saw a small silver amulet consisting of a circle of beads with a cross attached in his hand. He looked up at Mike curiously for an explanation.

"It's a silver rosary prayer ring. It belonged to Helen ... "

Steve sucked in a breath at Mike's words and gripped the amulet tightly again knowing now that he was holding something very precious and meaningful to Mike.

"Mike, I ... " Steve began but Mike silenced him.

"Now just hear me out ok? I'm not expecting you to say the rosary. I ... well I said some words at Helen's funeral and like you now I ... I didn't think I'd be able to without getting upset but that morning I found that in my coat pocket. Helen always had it with her and she gave it to me the last time she was able to speak before she ... well before she died and she asked me to carry it with me so that a little piece of her would always be with me when she was ... gone ... "

Steve could hear the raw emotion in Mike's voice and felt his own emotions waver. He didn't think his voice would work so instead he grasped Mike's arm in a supportive gesture and Mike clasped it back in appreciation.

"Anyway as I spoke that morning I started to get too upset and then I remembered that was in my pocket. I took it out and I held it and it was as if she came to help me and I was able to finish what I wanted to say. Now I know that sounds crazy and you've every right to be skeptical but it worked for me and ... well I want you to borrow it. I know you never met Helen and of course it would be better if you had something of your parents instead but I know that Helen will help you too if you let her buddy boy. What do you say, huh? Will you trust your partner and give it a try. Will you? "

By the time Mike had finished speaking Steve had a lump in his throat. He sighed heavily and swallowed hard and then looked back up at his partner gratefully, honored to be entrusted with something that meant so much to his partner. With it came the strength he needed.

"Ok ... Let's go back in. Jeannie's going to be worried about us."

Mike patted Steve's arm proudly and helped him up off the step. He watched as Steve readjusted his tie and fixed his hair with his hands and then spoke.

"Are you sure you feel better now?"

"Yeah. Is that song finished?"

Mike listened at the door for a few seconds and then turned back to Steve.

"Yes, looks like Fr. Driscoll is in the middle of his sermon. Are you going to read it?"

Steve took a long slow intake of breath and replied as confidently as he was able.

"I'll give it a try ... Got any other helpful tips? I need all I can get. "

Mike beamed proudly and then spoke smiling.

"Sure, read the poem off the page. Don't look up and get distracted by all the strange faces. And if you struggle, look at me and Jeannie. Read it as if you're just talking to both of us in the comfort of my office instead. Ok?"

"Ok, thanks. And ... leave the rest to Helen, huh?"

Again Mike smiled but this time his smile held a mix of pride and sadness.

"Absolutely. She won't let you down" Mike stated his voice breaking a little.

"If you and Jeannie's support are anything to go by ... I know she won't."

Mike grabbed and squeezed Steve's right shoulder at that powerful statement and turning he then accompanied Steve back into the church. Jeannie looked up relieved to see them return. As they slipped back into the seat as inconspicuously as they could, she gripped Steve's arm again and was rewarded by a nervous smile from him. She looked behind him at her father who simply mouthed _" he's ok"_ back at her.

The sermon wasn't long and as Fr. Driscoll finished up he saw Steve and Mike return. He looked over and caught Steve's eye. He waited for their prearranged sign and Steve very nervously nodded his head. Fr. Driscoll smiled proudly at him and then spoke into the microphone.

"Now today you will be glad to know that my sermon is somewhat shorter than usual as Steve Keller would like to say a few words for his parent's Anniversary. I invite him up now to speak to you. Steve? By the way, you can thank him for my shorter sermon after mass" he added lightheartedly to break the tension.

Another wave of muted laughter rippled through the congregation as they waited for Steve to come to the pulpit..

Mike and Jeannie could both sense the nervous tension emanating from the young man between them. Jeannie squeezed his arm and whispered emotionally.

"Good luck. You'll be fine."

He stood up, gripping the rosary ring tightly in his hand and retrieving the poem from his pocket with the other. As he passed Mike, the older man whispered encouragingly.

"You can do it buddy boy. Remember what I told you, ok? "

Steve nodded at Mike and then left the seat and walked up to the pulpit slowly and steadily. He stood at the pulpit and noticing that the paper on which the poem was written on was shaking visibly in his trembling hands he quickly placed it down before anyone could notice. He shifted uncomfortably, as a quick glance up, saw everyone staring at him in anticipation and the silence in the Church was frightening. He looked at Mike for added strength and received a nod and a wink in reply. Clearing his throat he started to speak as confidently as he could.

"Firstly, I want to thank Fr. Driscoll and Mike Stone for helping me to arrange this mass and also Mike's daughter Jeannie who flew in from Arizona early this morning to be here with me for this mass today. Secondly, I'd like to thank you all for this opportunity to say a few words. I promise they won't keep you long and I appreciate this chance to speak a little about my parents. As Fr. Driscoll already said I lost my parents when I was only five so at their funeral I obviously never got to say anything. Much later on, I wrote a poem that basically covered what I wanted to say to them but never got to so I'd just like to read that here today. It's not very long. "

Steve audibly took another deep breath and shifted where he stood. He paused for a minute or two and then began.

"It's called "If Only"... If only I'd known you longer if we'd had more time to share. Then perhaps I'd have more memories, or had more time to prepare ... But you were taken away so quickly, in the blinking of an eye. And I was left without you, without a chance to say goodbye. Without a chance to say I'm sorry or how I loved you so very much. Or to thank you for the love you gave, that I leaned on like a crutch. But when that crutch was taken, I was unbalanced, prone to fall. Yet through every uneven step, I felt you were with me through it all ... If only things had been different, If you were still here by my side. Yet throughout each year that passes, I feel you still ... act as my ... guide ... "

At the end of that line Steve's voice broke and he stopped as the lump in his throat reappeared. He mumbled very shakily.

"I'm sorry ..."

Fr. Driscoll leaned over to the microphone from where he was sitting and spoke sympathetically.

"Take your time Steve. We all understand this is difficult for you to read."

Steve looked over at the priest and nodded his gratitude.

He stared at the page and tried to pull himself together as Mike had told him to. Jeannie started to panic and sidling up to her father she whispered urgently as a tear ran down her cheek.

"Mike, he's struggling. Go up and finish reading it for him. Please?"

Mike never took his eyes off Steve but grabbed Jeannie's hand comfortingly.

"No. He has to read it himself, Jeannie. Don't worry. He'll do it. He's got this."

Jeannie wasn't as convinced but trusted her father's instincts. From where she now sat she heard Mike mumbling under his breath _"Come on Steve. You can do this!"_

Steve stared at the next line willing himself to continue. As the seconds passed he felt himself starting to panic so he looked back up at Mike. Mike caught the distinct look of desperation in his partner's eyes and made a closed fist gesture at him. Steve caught the gesture and stared down at his left hand which was still closed. Opening it he saw the rosary ring that he had almost forgotten about and in that instant a strange calm descended on him. Mike's words came back to him _"I know that Helen will help you too if you let her buddy boy"_ He swallowed back down the lump in his throat and continued reading.

"... So while I cannot see you, I still feel your warm embrace. In the breeze that encircles me ... or the sun upon my face. So while we cannot be together and we remain so far apart ... I walk a little straighter now, while I hold you ... in my heart ... "

As he finished it he felt proud that he had reached the end and managed to read it out loud but still the sentiment behind it brought great sadness to him and he struggled to hold it back as his eyes watered. He gathered up his page and nodded gratefully to the congregation.

"Thank you ... " he murmured, as he slowly left the pulpit to make his way back to his seat.

As Steve had read the second part, Mike glowed with pride and heard Jeannie holding back her sobs beside him. She had tears in her eyes and he gripped her hand tighter. As he looked around at the other people, he noticed that very few remained untouched by Steve's heartfelt poem. Other women were sniffing or dabbing their eyes with their handkerchiefs and the men while trying to disguise it looked equally as sorrowful. As Steve came down the steps from the pulpit a sudden rapturous applause broke out and Steve stopped temporarily, stunned by their reaction. Then he made his way even more quickly back to his seat, his cheeks flushed and his voice failing him.

Mike moved back and Jeannie moved sideways to allow Steve back into the seat and as he sat down, she hugged his arm tight, trying to disguise the tears from her voice.

"Steve, that was beautiful ... really beautiful. Your parents would be so proud."

Steve forced a smile at her and clasping her hand he spoke shakily.

"Thanks, Jeannie."

Mike reached behind him and grasped his far shoulder and leaned in towards him and whispered.

"You did really good buddy boy. Well done."

Steve was struggling to stay together as the applause continued and he felt that every eye in the church was now focused on him. He leaned towards Mike.

" No, I blew it Mike. I stopped ... I froze ... "

"NO, you DIDN'T. You only paused for a while. Then you continued. Listen to them Steve. They don't think you blew it. They thought it was touching and beautiful and it WAS. It was something that anyone whose lost anyone could relate to. You did it Steve ... just like I knew you could. "

Steve smiled thankfully at Mike as the applause finally died down and Fr. Driscoll took his place at the pulpit again.

 **In memory of those who died in Berkeley and their grieving families and for any one who has ever lost someone I dedicate the poem that I wrote for this story.**

 **IF ONLY :**

If only I'd known you longer.

If we'd had more time to share.

Then perhaps I'd have more memories ,

Or had more time to prepare.

But you were taken away so quickly,

In the blinking of an eye.

And I was left without you,

Without a chance to say goodbye.

Without a chance to say I'm sorry,

Or how I loved you so very much.

Or to thank you for the love you gave,

That I leaned on like a crutch.

But when that crutch was taken,

I was unbalanced, prone to fall.

Yet through every uneven step,

I felt you were with me through it all.

If only things had been different,

If you were still here by my side.

Yet throughout each year that passes,

I feel you still act as my guide.

So while I cannot see you,

I still feel your warm embrace.

In the breeze that encircles me,

Or the sun upon my face.

So while we cannot be together,

And we remain so far apart.

I walk a little straighter now,

While I hold you in my heart.


	16. Chapter 16

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

 **The Epilogue:**

Fr. Driscoll seemed to have been deeply touched by Steve's poem as well and he took a few seconds to compose himself too before he spoke.

"Well Steve, I think it's safe to say that after that heartfelt reading of your poem, there's not a dry eye left in the house. I know it was a difficult poem for you to read but I also think that applause shows you how much everyone here appreciated your courage and I think I speak for us all when I say thank you for sharing it with us. It was a fitting tribute to the two people we remember here at this mass today."

The regular prayers resumed and Steve relaxed a little as the mass continued and the focus left him much to his relief. Jeannie and Steve still looked sad and were still visibly struggling to keep their emotions in check. Steve's parents were foremost in his mind after the feelings evoked by his poem and the words had struck a cord with Jeannie whose thoughts of her mother Helen caused another tear to fall down her cheek as she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Steve noticed her reaction and squeezing her hand that still remained in his, he whispered.

"You ok?"

Jeannie smiled through her unshed tears and uttered solemnly.

"Not really. What about you?"

Steve stared at her sadly and she saw the heartache in his eyes but he felt calmer somehow, not as nervous now that the poem reading was over and the mass was winding down to a close.

"I'm not quite sure ..." he replied honestly as his voice broke again and he returned his attention back to the altar, not wanting her to see too much of the truth in his eyes.

Mike heard their exchange and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two clean handkerchiefs and leaning over he put one into both their free hands. They saw what he gave them and they both smiled and thanked him.

"I figured neither one of you would think to bring one."

Steve and Jeannie looked at each other and smiled at the fact that Mike was as always right.

The prayers finished and it was time for Communion. As Jeannie rose she turned to her father.

"Are you coming Mike?"

Knowing that Steve wasn't going to partake he shook his head and replied.

"No, not today. You go ahead."

Jeannie understood in that moment that he wanted to stay and keep an eye on Steve so she nodded and went herself. Mike patted Steve's back.

"You want to go outside again for a bit? We could take a walk. Clear your head?"

Steve smiled again.

"No, no I'm ok. Honest. You go ahead with Jeannie. I promise I won't bail out on you."

Mike studied Steve for several seconds.

"You sure?"

"Yeah ... Go on."

Happy enough that Steve was telling the truth, he went up to Communion but watched him all the while he queued, as the young man sat dolefully staring at the floor, his mind definitely not in the present and didn't relax until he saw Jeannie return to sit beside him again.

After Communion, more prayers were said and Fr. Driscoll mentioned Steve's parents again in the closing prayers. As the organ started up, the hymn "Amazing Grace" played and as the choir sang, Steve couldn't help but feel that it was an appropriate hymn to finish on. He listened to the words _"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see_. _Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come.'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far. And grace will lead me home."_ and smiled at how fitting the words were.

Fr. Driscoll left the altar and processed down the middle aisle so as to greet people out on the Church steps as they left. Mike picked up his fedora from the floor where he had placed it at the start of mass and along with Steve and Jeannie they left their seat. Steve was suddenly swamped by well wishers as Mike and Jeannie became separated from him in the ensuing crowd. At first Mike panicked that perhaps Steve wouldn't fare well being swamped like that after his flashbacks of being surrounded as a child at his parent's funeral and pushed his way back into his partner but what he saw eased his mind. Everyone was patting him on the back and shaking his hand and congratulating him on his lovely reading and although he looked overwhelmed, he looked surprised and pleased that his poem had touched so many and their words seemed to bolster him some how. Mike listened to what was being said.

"Such a tribute. Your parents would be so proud."

"Beautiful, it was just beautiful."

"So touching. "

"Thank you for sharing it with us."

"You were so brave to continue like that."

As the men firmly shook his hand, the older ladies hugged him and one even pinched his cheeks and told him how he reminded her of her handsome nephew Clive, much to Mike's amusement. Another lady emotionally kissed him on the cheek as she told him his poem reminded her of her late husband as Steve went a deep shade of crimson. One by one they then left until a very bemused and embarrassed looking Steve was left behind. Jeannie rushed over to him while Mike laughed.

"Are you alright?" she asked as she noticed him holding his sore hand.

"Yeah, but boy some of them give one strong handshake." he noted as his sore knuckles painfully throbbed.

Then seeing Mike laughing he blushed again.

"Oh come on, will you. What? What's so funny?"

Mike was in stitches at this stage and merely pointed at his partner.

"What? I nearly get stampeded and you think it's funny, huh? Where were you anyway? I thought as my partner you were supposed to have my back, huh?"

"Well, you looked like you were enjoying the attention. I didn't want to disturb your new fan club, now did I?"

Mike continued laughing and even though Steve looked disgruntled at first, Mike's laugh was infectious and soon he couldn't help chuckling too as Jeannie joined them. Mike stopped giggling first.

"Oh I'm sorry buddy boy. But for a minute there I thought they were going to adopt you."

"Ha Ha ,very funny. You're a riot you know that?"

As they wandered themselves towards the front doors of the Church then , the last ones to leave, Mike pulled his own handkerchief out of his pocket and halted Steve for a second and started to rub at Steve's cheek.

"What? What are you doing? Enough already. What?"

"You've got red lipstick on you" Mike explained as Steve squirmed away from his partner's ministrations and headed back down the aisle as Mike and Jeannie followed him.

Steve held the door open for Mike and Jeannie and they all exited out into the morning sunshine. Fr. Driscoll was still greeting people at the bottom of the steps when Mike noticed Mary Carpenter, the lady he had spoken to earlier and as she had inquired about Jeannie, he wanted to introduce her to his daughter, now a grown young woman compared to the last time she would have seen her.

"Jeannie, there's someone I want you to meet. " he said excitedly but then remembered Steve and didn't like just abandoning him so he added. " Come on buddy boy, I'll introduce you too."

But Steve wasn't feeling overly sociable so he declined politely.

"No Mike. If you don't mind I'd rather wait over there for you ... but you two go ahead."

Mike frowned, not wanting to leave him out.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now go on before she leaves. "

"Come on Mike, he said it's ok." Jeannie urged, feeling that Steve maybe needed a few minutes to himself after the mass to get his thoughts together.

Reluctantly Mike agreed and steered Jeannie down the steps towards Helen's good friend and Steve wandered over and sat down on the top steps and watched them as they talked. The sun was starting to heat up but there was still a nice breeze blowing and as he sat there he savored being back outside in the fresh air again. He realized then that he was still holding Helen's rosary ring and looked back up at Mike but knew now was not the appropriate time to return it. He unfurled his hand and saw the indent the cross had made in his hand, proving how tightly he had been gripping it during the reading of his poem. He rubbed at the mark absentmindedly and then saw Fr. Driscoll coming up the steps out of the corner of his eye and approaching him.

"Mind if I join you for a minute?"

"No, go ahead."

Fr. Driscoll sat down gingerly on the steps beside him and Steve reached over to shake his hand.

"Thank you Father for the lovely mass. It was very fitting."

"You're welcome. Anytime. Although for a minute back there I thought you weren't go to see all of it."

Steve blushed and looked down at the steps awkwardly.

"To be honest, I probably wouldn't have only for Mike. I just found it all a bit ... overwhelming I guess. "

Fr. Driscoll patted Steve's knee.

"That's understandable but in this case I'm glad that Mike can be so persuasive but I was worried about you. You know if you ever need to talk or want to get stuff off your chest you can talk to me after mass anytime. Grief is a strange thing you know? It can knock you down, make you act totally out of character and sometimes it can lie dormant for many years and then rear it's ugly head again when you're least expecting it to ... "

"Yeah, I guess I've noticed that. And I'll keep your offer in mind, thanks.. "

"Good, fair enough ... " then feeling he needed to change the subject he added lightheartedly. "You know you've made quite an impression on some of our regular parishioners today Steve. They were all raving about your poem and the courage you showed in reading it. Mr. Kettridge over there was so moved I thought he was going to offer to adopt you." he said chuckling.

Steve laughed as he remembered Mike's words earlier after he had been surrounded by well wishers and then looking back down at where Mike was standing talking with Jeannie and Mary Carpenter he added confidently.

"Well Father, you can tell Mr. Kettridge that Mike already beat him to it."

Fr. Driscoll smiled broadly and patted Steve on the back.

"I'll do that ... Listen Steve, would you let me print your poem in our Parish newsletter this week?"

Steve's jaw dropped visibly and he flustered somewhat.

"Oh Father, I don't think it's THAT good ... "

"Steve, you're not giving it enough credit. You touched everyone in the Church today with that poem and I think it will help others who are grieving the loss of someone to read it too. Come on, what can it hurt, huh? I'll even dedicate it to the memory of your parents. What do you say?"

Steve thought about it for a few seconds and then he reached into his pocket and handed his copy to Fr. Driscoll.

"Ok, if you think it will help people. Here."

"It will, believe me. Good man and thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a statue that needs returning to its rightful place before someone complains about it's absence." he said laughing as he stood back up.

Steve blushed and flustered a little.

"You need a hand with that? Seeing as it was my fault it was moved in the first place."

"No thank you Steve. It's actually not that heavy, believe it or not. But maybe sometime we could work on this statue phobia of yours."

Steve laughed.

"Ok Father and thanks for everything."

The kindly priest patted his shoulder as he turned to leave.

"Sure Steve, like I said anytime. Don't be a stranger around here now. Come along with Mike sometime. You'll always be welcome even if it does mean moving a statue once in a while." he added, nudging Steve teasingly. "Take care and you have a good day now."

"Ok, you too, Father."

Steve watched Fr. Driscoll go back inside the church and when he turned he saw Mike heading towards him up the steps. Jeannie was still in animated conversation with the older lady down on the kerb. Mike sat down cautiously on the step beside the young man, placing his fedora on the step next to him as he did, as the two men heard Mike's knees creak and Steve winced in sympathy and mumbled an apology.

"Back sitting on steps I see. Have you got something against chairs buddy boy?" he said teasingly.

Steve laughed.

"What? You didn't trust me on my own too long?" he asked, pointing to the conversation still continuing without him down below.

"NO, it wasn't me checking up on you buddy boy. It was recipes."

"Recipes? "

"Yes, they're swopping recipes. Trust me buddy boy. Never get between two women discussing recipes. "

That made Steve chuckle.

"Ok, I'll try to remember that. "

Then he remembered Helen's rosary ring and his smile faded. He opened his hand and offered it across to the older man who swallowed hard and then faintly smiled when he saw it.

"Thanks for letting me borrow this."

Mike took it back and held it lovingly for several seconds before returning it to his coat pocket.

"You're welcome ... I see you have the same mark I did when I was holding it as I spoke from that same pulpit eight years ago buddy boy."

Steve smiled and rubbed at the mark again subconsciously all the while looking down at the steps and not at Mike.

"Yeah, I guess I was holding it a bit too tight, huh?"

"Don't worry, it goes away after a little while. Did it ... help?"

"Yeah, yeah it did. You were right. "

Mike shifted a little on the step and then asked tentatively.

"Are you feeling any better now?"

"Yeah, I think so. "

Mike reached over and pulled the young man's face to look at him.

"Honestly?"

Steve blushed a little.

"Yeah, I feel a little better but for the most part I feel kind of ... "

He stopped mid-sentence not wanting to sound crazy but Mike persisted.

"Kind of what Steve? "

Steve sighed, knowing Mike would get the truth out of him one way or another so realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore.

"Kind of numb ... "

"Well, numb is good Steve."

Steve hadn't expected that answer and looked at him curiously.

"It is?"

"Yes, it's just another stage of grief buddy boy. First there's denial, sometimes anger and then comes the grief. Numb is when you've cried it all out and there are no more tears left to cry. Then next comes acceptance and then finally smiles buddy boy."

"Smiles?"

Mike put an arm around Steve's shoulders and shook him slightly.

"Yes, at all the good memories you have. I think you've come a long way since yesterday buddy boy. I really do."

This made Steve smile again and then he asked cautiously.

"Did you go through all those stages after ... after Helen died?"

"Oh boy, did I? Yes and a few more besides. But I got to the smiles stage just like you will, now that you've finally dealt with it properly. " he said shaking the young man again.

"So, are we still off to Modesto as planned?"

"Yeah... but could we go back to your house first please? I think I'd like to change out of this suit. "

"Sure. I think Jeannie wants to make us a picnic lunch anyway. Do you mind if she comes with us?"

"No, that's fine. I'd like that. Besides she makes the best picnic lunches in San Francisco."

Mike beamed proudly as he watched his daughter saying her goodbyes to Mary Carpenter down at the kerb.

"She really does, doesn't she? You know, it's good to have her home for the weekend. I really miss her when she's in Arizona."

"I know you do Mike ... "

Mike looked back at Steve as he waited for Jeannie to rejoin them.

"You know you look wiped out Steve. After we get home maybe you should get your head down for forty winks while Jeannie makes the picnic and before we head to Modesto. It's still early and you had one hell of a night last night buddy boy."

Steve yawned and nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Listen, Mike ... Thanks for everything. I wouldn't have read that poem only for you persuading me to and ... I'm glad you did. It really helped. You know I don't know what I'd do sometimes without you and Jeannie. I can't believe she flew all the way home so early to be here for the mass this morning."

Mike smiled and patted Steve on the back,

"Well that's because you're family now whether you like it or not buddy boy." he said squeezing the back of Steve's neck affectionately. "And that's what families do. They're there for each other. "

Steve was very touched by Mike's words and felt honored to be considered one of their family and not trusting his voice to speak after how much those words had meant to him having not been part of a family for so long, he chose to smile gratefully at the older man instead. Mike could see on the young man's face how grateful he was and not wanting to upset him again he changed the subject purposefully, feeling that his point had been made successfully.

"I'm glad reading that poem helped. I was a bit worried that I was pushing you too hard. You're sure I didn't overdo the fussing?"

Feeling a lot better after hearing Mike's words and by Jeannie's thoughtful actions, Steve mischievously smiled his usual cheeky grin.

"Well, now that you mention it ... "

"Why you ... " Mike said rustling the young man's hair as Steve shifted sideways to get away from Mike's teasing, laughing as he did.

Jeannie was making her way back up the steps towards them and smiled when she reached them as she saw them clowning around.

"Well come on you two. It's time to head home. I thought we were taking a road trip today and I have a picnic lunch to make. Let's go." she said grabbing Steve's arm and pulling him to his feet. "I think you two need some strong coffee to give you both a spring in your step. What happened? Anyone would think you two hadn't slept last night! " she said as she bounded energetically back down towards the car shouting back as she went. " Steve, race you to the car."

Steve pulled Mike up to his feet and laughed. "Little does she know, huh? Excuse me but she's got a head start." and with that he raced down after her.

Mike reached down and picked up his hat and smiled as he watched them race down towards the car and felt pleased that things had turned out well in the end. He wasn't as worried about Steve anymore and felt that their trip to Modesto would now go a lot more smoothly. Stretching his aching knees, he then reached into his pocket and found the rosary ring. Taking it out, he held it and looking up at the blue sky he whispered on the breeze.

"Thanks for helping him sweetheart. And if you meet his folks up there, tell them not to worry. He's doing just fine."

Then he placed it back safely in his pocket and putting on his hat he started down the steps slowly, as he heard Steve and Jeannie giggling as they jostled to be first to the car and felt truly blessed with the two young people God had assigned him to be there for.

 **The End.**

 **A/N : I am actually very sorry to see this story end but at least now I can faithfully return to finish my other ongoing stories. Thank you again for taking this journey with me and when the others are completed I may return to add a sequel to this one of their day trip to Modesto if there is enough interest in reading one!... :-)**


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